


The Ghost of You

by awesomecherry



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Mates, Covers Pre-Serum Steve Rogers through Post Winter Soldier, Heat Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Steve Rogers, Torture, chapter three has graphic violence, suicidal thoughts/behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomecherry/pseuds/awesomecherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve meets Bucky when he's four and Bucky's six. He tells Bucky off for punching Jamie Higgins in the face, and they're best friends from that moment on.<br/>Alternatively titled: Steve's life in three parts (they all revolve around Bucky)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how this fic happened. It's my first attempt at writing something that contain nsfw material, so I'm sorry if it sucks. This is also my first time writing A/B/O dynamics. Basically, this is a lot of firsts for me. Important notes are : 1) I made up the age difference. It's an alternate universe. 2) I have this fic planned for three parts (but really this part didn't turn out anything like I thought it would so who knows) 3) Good lord, I am so embarrassed to be posting this. Oh well. All mistakes are my own. And I don't own Marvel or their characters.

Steve meets Bucky when he's four and Bucky is six, all smiles and charm for the nuns at Sunday school, but breaks the skin on two of his knuckles by punching Jamie Higgins in the nose when he hears him call Steve a Mick. Steve squares his jaw and says, "mama says you shouldn't hit" and Bucky smiles back and replies, "my mama says that too." Steve graciously allows Bucky to walk him to where his mama is waiting for him, and they're best friends from then on. 

Bucky notices the way Steve smells right away. Like the pies Mama makes on Christmas, and the taffy Papa brings home from the docks in Summer. He wants to make Steve wear his clothes, so the scent gets layered on them. He stops himself after one punch to Stupid Jamie's face when he sees how upset it makes Steve. He wants Steve to smile at him, not be mad at him. He walks Steve to his Mama, knowing somehow he's going to spend the rest of his life protecting Steve Rogers. 

Bucky tells Steve the fireworks are just for him on his sixth birthday. Steve believes it until he's eight and Sister Mary Catherine gives him a sad smile and explains Independence Day. Steve waits until they’re walking back to his house to punch Bucky in the arm. Bucky just shakes his head and says, “well, they should be. Ain’t no one deserves fireworks on their birthday more than you, pal.” 

Steve spends his tenth summer begging Bucky to just leave him alone. The other boys in the neighborhood are always inviting Bucky along to play a game of stickball and he always turns them down, choosing instead to sit by Steve’s bed where he’s recovering from rheumatic fever and read his latest stolen sci-fi novel out loud. It takes Steve five days to work up the nerve to ask Bucky why he stays. “You don’t hafta stay, Buck. I’m not much fun just lying here.” Bucky glares back at him. “I don’t hafta do anything but go to Church, punk. Maybe I’m havin fun readin to you. You’re always telling me I need to practice anyway.” Steve lets it go at that, too exhausted to argue. 

When Steve is twelve and Sarah Rogers’ cough keeps Steve awake at night, causing his own cough to turn wetter and harsher, Bucky moves himself in and holds Steve's good ear against his chest at night to drown out the sounds. He never mentions the tear stains on his pajamas in the morning. Bucky takes to stealing day old bread from the bakery down the street in an effort to keep something in Sarah and Steve’s stomachs. When Sarah passes away in her sleep one night in early spring, Bucky packs Steve’s stuff and walks him to the orphanage where he’s been living for six years and tells the Sister in charge that Steve can share his cot. 

Bucky presents as an alpha two weeks after Steve’s 13th birthday. Father Mathew has Bucky moved to the alpha wing, but Sister Charlotte allows Bucky to move back to the ward Steve stays in after they find Bucky curled next to Steve five mornings in a row. Sister Roselyn shakes her head and takes Steve aside to give him a special talk about _presenting_ and how Bucky might take a little while to settle into his new hormones. 

Bucky and Steve leave the orphanage when Bucky is 16 and Steve is 14. They told Bucky he had to go, and Steve would rather be homeless with Bucky than have a bed without him. Bucky argues until his face is red with frustration, but Steve has never backed down from a fight, and eventually Bucky gives in. Bucky works three jobs and Steve sells sketches to the newspaper when he can. Somehow they manage to scrape up enough for a one bedroom in the poorest area, they even have enough left over for food, though Steve is sure that Bucky goes to bed hungry whenever Steve has to visit a doctor or get a new medication. Steve spends three months thinking every day he wakes up will be the day he presents. Every day Bucky pats him on the back and says, “maybe it’ll happen tomorrow.” 

Steve is 16 when the doctors tell him he’ll never present. “You have the blood of an omega,” Dr. Jacobs says calmly. “But your body can’t handle a heat. The good news is, you’ll pass as a beta. No one will ever know the difference.” Steve breaks a second hand vase Bucky had traded a guy at the docks one of Steve’s sketches for when he gets home. He’d never given it much thought what he’d present as, just assumed he would. It doesn’t feel right lying about his orientation, but being an Omega won’t pay the bills, and being a broken Omega is even worse. He tells Bucky he’s a beta. It tears him up inside to lie to his best pal, but he can’t stand the thought of seeing pity in Bucky’s eyes. 

Bucky takes Steve’s orientation in stride. He thought Alphas always mated with Omegas, but if anyone could break the rules of nature, it would be Steve Rogers. He knows deep down in his bones that Steve is his mate. He doesn’t dare bring it up to Steve, even though he thinks about it every day. He can’t handle the thought of Steve rejecting him, or worse, Steve putting up with Bucky out of some misplaced sense of loyalty. Bucky would rather jump off the Brooklyn Bridge than hurt Steve in any way. 

Steve’s loved Bucky for what feels like his whole life. It’s only when he’s seventeen and catches John Malcolm kissing Terry Fitch under the pier that he realizes maybe he loves Bucky as something other than a friend/brother/protector. He’s always loved the way Bucky smells, like the salty smell of the ocean and the crispness of fresh laundry. He’s worn Bucky’s hand me downs since he was a child, loves the feeling of safety and security he gets when they’re layered in Bucky’s scent. He leaves the pier with a strange ache in his stomach. Everyone knows Terry presented as an omega last year and his parents were considering alphas for him. John Malcolm presented when he was 15, but coming from an immigrant family his prospects were low. 

Two days later when Steve is still mulling the issue over in his mind, Bucky comes home from the docks with a dark look in his eye and a grimace etched onto his face. It takes Steve twenty minutes to get Bucky to spill the story. “They found John Malcolm under the pier today beaten to a pulp. He’ll be fine, but word on the street is he got caught with Terry Fitch. Terry’s parents shipped him off to one of those omega boarding schools. Apparently, some betas wanted to teach John a lesson about dallying with ‘that boy whore’. I’d sure like to know who did it, I’d like to teach them a lesson.” Steve vows to keep his newly recognized feelings to himself. He’s caused Bucky enough strife in his life, and Bucky deserves a real omega. 

Steve breaks his vow when he’s twenty and Bucky’s pulled him from a fight against two alphas harassing a female omega outside the pictures. Steve’s got a black eye and a busted lip, but the girl got away unharmed, and one of the alphas is limping from the kick Steve delivered to his crotch. Bucky’s got an arm around Steve’s shoulders dragging him back to their apartment, and the light from the setting sun catches on Bucky’s slicked back hair, and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. He waits for Bucky to finish his lecture on picking his battles as they walk into their apartment, closing the door behind them. Bucky pauses to launch into the second part of the familiar lecture, and Steve makes his move, pushing Bucky up against the door, crowding into his space. “You know I love you, Buck?” 

Bucky’s eyes soften and his mouth goes slack. “What’re you talking about, Stevie?” 

“I love you.” Steve repeats. “You smell so good.” He leans in to press his nose against Bucky’s throat. 

Bucky cups the back of Steve’s head, growling low in his throat. “Love you too, pal. Didn’t want to say something and ruin our friendship. Couldn’t bear to lose you.” 

Steve huffs, giving in to impulse and darting his tongue out to lick Bucky’s neck. “Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Barnes. You’re stuck with me.” 

Bucky grips Steve and pivots, putting Steve against the door. He leans down until he can tuck his face into Steve’s neck. “Smell so good, Stevie. Just want to roll around in your scent. Rub mine into your skin, want you covered in it.” 

“Do it, Buck. Want it.” Steve gasps, as Bucky bites lightly along his neck and up the corner of his jaw, pausing to look Steve in the eye. 

“You sure, baby? Don’t want you to do anything you don’t want too.” 

Steve’s eyes harden and he pushes Bucky back roughly. “When have I ever done anything I didn’t want to? And I’m not your baby, jerk. Now are you going to kiss me or what?” Steve tilts his head back to glare at Bucky. 

Bucky swoops forward, shoving his mouth onto Steve’s and gripping his hips to lift him off the floor. Steve squeaks in surprise and wraps his legs around Bucky’s hips tightly. He almost hits Bucky for picking him up, but ends up moaning when Bucky run his tongue over Steve’s lips in a bid for entrance. Bucky takes advantage and pushes his tongue inside, tangling it with Steve’s as he walks them back towards the bedroom. 

Steve shifts his hips experimentally against Bucky’s abdomen, grinning when Bucky breaks their kiss to moan. Steve does it again, feeling the firmness of Bucky’s dick rubbing against his ass. 

“You’re killing me, Stevie.” Bucky rests his head against Steve’s forehead. “Look like an angel, but you’re cruel as sin.” He drops Steve onto his cot with a grin. “The way you look, baby.” He groans. 

Steve licks his lips and drops his eyes to stare at the bulge in Bucky’s pants. He hesitantly reaches down to adjust the hardness in his own pants, looking up when Bucky groans again. 

“You have no idea, Stevie. So Goddamn perfect.” Bucky surges forward, recapturing Steve’s lips. He keeps most of his weight on his knees and elbows, not wanting to restrict Steve’s already labored breathing. He breaks the kiss to start working his way down Steve’s neck and under the collar of his shirt. “God baby, you taste as good as you smell.” 

Steve breathes out a low moan and starts unbuttoning Bucky’s shirt. “Too many clothes. Why’d you have to put on so many layers?” 

Bucky chuckles and sits back on his haunches to tug both shirts off. “Better?” 

“God, Buck.” Steve reaches out and traces the muscles in his stomach, watching goosebumps rise on Bucky’s skin. “You’re the one that’s perfect.” 

Bucky lets Steve look his fill, his chest puffing a little with pride. “Your turn.” He grins, unbuttoning Steve’s shirt. He leans down to kiss the skin slowly being exposed, following the blush making its way down Steve’s chest. He pauses to suck a hardening nipple into his mouth, causing Steve to nearly jack-knife up at the sensation. He settles his weight a little more firmly on Steve’s lower half, adding some friction to where Steve is helplessly rocking his hips up as he shifts to Steve’s other nipple. “Okay, Stevie?” 

“S’good, Buck.” Steve groans, fisting Bucky’s hair, holding his mouth against his chest. His cock is painful against the confines of his pants, and he can feel his insides warming. If he were a proper omega, he knows he would be leaking steadily by now. “Pants next.” 

Bucky obediently starts tugging first his own and then Steve’s pants off, kissing him all the while. Once they’re both naked, he rocks down experimentally, biting his cheek hard to keep in the moan threatening to burst from his chest. The precome leaking from both their cocks is just enough to keep the friction from being painful. “So perfect, baby.” He groans, dropping his head into the crook of Steve’s neck, breathing in lungful’s of Steve’s amazing scent. 

Steve’s body clenches and unclenches rhythmically as Bucky rocks into him. He feels like he’s floating when Bucky gets a hand around them both, stroking them steadily. He digs his teeth into the meat of Bucky’s shoulder to keep his moans from alerting the neighbors. Pleasure bubbles through his veins, and his breath stutters as the feeling rises, rises, rises, and crests. He bites down on a scream as he comes on Bucky’s hand and his stomach. 

Bucky strokes him through the aftershocks, muttering into Steve’s neck. “That’s right. So hot, baby. So close.” He rocks down harder, letting go of Steve when he becomes too sensitive and grips himself harder, stroking faster. He shifts forward, tilting his head down so he can see where he’s stroking himself over Steve’s abdomen. The sight of him stroking himself with Steve’s come still on his hand does him in. He grips his knot tight and comes on Steve’s stomach, biting into his lip harshly to keep himself from biting Steve or screaming his name. He stops shaking a few minutes later with Steve running his hands soothingly down his back. He sighs into Steve’s neck. “That was amazing.” 

Steve chuckles, laying a kiss to the side of Bucky’s face. “Yeah, it was.” He wriggles under Bucky, scrunching up his nose. “But it’s starting to get gross. You mind getting off me so I can get that off me?” 

Bucky’s dick twitches at the sight of Steve’s come covered abdomen. He willfully resists the urge to rub it into Steve’s skin. “If I have to.” 

Steve whacks the back of Bucky’s head lightly. “Caveman.” 

“Alpha.” Bucky grumbles into Steve’s neck, inhaling one more time before rolling to his feet. His back is turned when Steve freezes minutely. “I’ll get a washcloth.” 

∞ 

They don’t really talk about it after that. They were already SteveandBucky, now they’re just SteveandBucky with a little more. Unfortunately, it’s the time of year Steve’s allergies start bothering him, and Bucky picks up extra shifts at the docks to save up for when the allergies cause a more serious illness. The year before Steve had gotten bronchitis and the year before that he’d had his second case of pneumonia. Even when they have the time to explore the new side of their relationship, Bucky flat out refuses to do anything that could compromise Steve’s breathing when he already spends most of his days wheezing. Steve stomps, and argues, even turns on the puppy dog eyes he knows Bucky can’t resist, but nothing will sway Bucky. It’s only when summer has turned into fall that Steve manages to talk Bucky into spending some quality time in their bed together. 

Steve waits for Bucky to get home on the ratty couch in the living room, wearing one of Bucky’s shirts and nothing else. Bucky comes in the door whistling, but stops short as soon as he spots Steve, quickly locking the door behind him. “Hey Buck, how was work?” 

“Fine.” Bucky says, eyes fixed on where the shirt is open against Steve’s collarbone. He licks his lips unconsciously. “That my shirt?” 

Steve’s smile is pure wickedness. “Thought you might like it.” He trails a hand slowly down his chest, skimming over the buttons. “I know how much you like it when I smell like you.” 

“You trying to kill me, baby?” Bucky stalks forward slowly, peeling off his clothes as he goes. “Look real good in my clothes, Stevie.” He tangles his fingers lightly in the soft hairs at the base of Steve’s neck and tugs in forward, aligning their mouths. He walks Steve backwards, one hand under the shirt gripping his hip. He pulls back to push his face into Steve’s neck, causing Steve to whine. “Course, you look even better naked.” 

Steve jerkily unbuttons the shirt, letting it fall to floor. “Been so long, Buck. You haven’t touched me in forever.” 

Bucky pushes Steve back gently onto the bed, raking his eyes over his splayed form. “Mhmm. I’ll fix that right now.” 

Steve leans back on his elbows and spreads his legs. He can’t feel self-conscious when he can see the evidence of how much Bucky likes looking at him. He lowers his eyes, looking up at Bucky through his lashes. “What’re you waitin for?” 

Bucky crawls onto the bed between Steve’s legs, kissing up his thighs, passing over his leaking cock, up his stomach to his mouth. “Like this?” He asks, stroking Steve’s cock firmly. “Maybe like this?” He leans down to nip at a nipple. “Tell me what you want, baby. Wanna make you feel good.” 

Steve melts at Bucky’s touch, warm and melty inside, like nothing could possibly be better. He rocks his hips into Bucky’s hand, but in the back of his mind he knows there’s something he needs. “Want you to fuck me, Buck.” 

Bucky freezes, pulling his hand away. “Stevie, I can’t.” He sits up to look down at Steve. “Baby, you know I can’t. I’d rip you to pieces. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from knotting you.” 

Steve flushes and shivers at thought, pleasure sparking through him. “Want you to, Buck. I can take it.” 

Bucky shakes his head, cock going a little soft. “I won’t hurt you Steve. It would kill me.” 

Steve frowns. He can tell from Bucky’s tone that this isn’t an argument he’s going to win. Maybe if Bucky knew…..but no, now’s not the time to tell him. “Come back here.” He says softly, pulling Bucky down into range for a kiss. He slips his hand down once Bucky starts rocking into him and grips Bucky’s cock, stroking hard and fast. 

Bucky breaks the kiss to moan raggedly. “Love your hands, baby. Feel so good wrapped around my dick.” He thrusts down faster, rubbing against the flat of Steve’s stomach. “Grip my knot, baby. Yeah, just like that.” Every breath he takes is full of Steve’s scent, and the thought of coming on Steve, his _mate_ , marking him with his scent, pulls him closer to the edge. “Love you, Stevie. So perfect, all mine.” He pants, hips stuttering as he comes. 

Steve eases his grip when he feels Bucky relax and cock stop jerking. He tilts his head for a kiss, rocking his dick into Bucky’s thigh. He reaches up to grab Bucky’s hair but stop at the last second, catching sight of the come still smeared on his fingers. 

Bucky slants his eyes, breaking the kiss to suck Steve’s come covered fingers into his mouth. 

Steve moans high and breathy, hips jerking up harshly. “Bucky, please, gotta come.” 

Bucky smirks, and lets the fingers slip out of his mouth. He kisses his way down Steve’s chest, pinching a nipple lightly as he trails his tongue down the blond hair leading to his groin. 

Steve stifles a moan as his dick bumps the bottom of Bucky’s chin. “Buck, please.” 

“Shhh. I’m going to take care of you, Stevie.” Bucky lays down between Steve’s legs, propping one of his legs over his shoulder, keeping the other bent and spread. He lays a few kisses experimentally along Steve’s dick, resting one hand on Steve’s chest so he can feel him breathe. He uses the other hand to grip the base of Steve’s dick and closes his mouth over the head, hollowing his cheeks and sucking. 

Bucky has to press his arm into Steve’s hips to keep Steve from choking him as his hips surge upward. Steve bites his wrist to muffle his scream when Bucky takes in more. Steve writhes on the bed in pleasure. His thighs are only stopped from clamping together on Bucky’s head by Bucky’s shoulders. He circles his hips mindlessly. It’s so good, but not enough. 

“Buuucckky.” Steve whines. “Buck, please. More.” 

Bucky presses down until he has all of Steve in his mouth, his nose pressed to Steve’s blond curls. He hums when Steve fists his hair and pulls it. 

“Buck. M’empty. Please.” Steve’s breathing is full of hitching gasps causing Bucky to pull back. 

“You doing okay?” Bucky rasps, wiping saliva from his mouth. 

Steve drums his heel into Bucky’s back. “I was, you jerk.” He pulls in a sharp breath when Bucky sucks two of his own fingers into his mouth. “Buck.” 

“Trust me?” He asks, settling back between Steve’s legs, a finger trailing around the rim of Steve’s hole. 

“Always.” Steve moans out. 

Bucky swallows Steve’s cock back down as he pushes in his finger, leaving it there for Steve to get used to while he bobs up and down. He waits until Steve starts pushing down onto the finger he’s impaled on before he moves it. He knows from biology class Steve made him pay attention to that there should be a spot that will make Steve go wile. He moves his finger slowly, thrusting in and out carefully, changing the angle every few thrusts. He nearly pulls away when Steve yelps, but realizes at the last second it’s from pleasure. 

“Buck! Right there!” Steve tosses his head back and forth, completely lost in the pleasure. “m’ so close, Buck. Please.” 

Bucky rubs the spot firmly. He lets Steve’s cock fall out of his mouth so he can spit on his fingers, and takes Steve all the way down, sliding in a second finger. Steve’s whole body seems to clench around him, breath freezing in his chest. Bucky barely has time to pull back so only the head remains in his mouth before Steve is coming, arching up off the bed, and squeezing around Bucky’s fingers. 

Bucky waits until Steve’s cock has gone soft and his hole relaxes before pulling his fingers out and moving up Steve’s body for a kiss. “So good, baby. You were so perfect.” 

Steve flushes with pleasure. He drapes an arm around Bucky’s neck, completely boneless. “Feels good.” He slurs. 

Bucky chuckles and flips them over, letting Steve drowse on his chest. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” 

“Mhmm.” Steve nuzzles into Bucky’s neck. “Next time I want more than your fingers.” 

“Go to sleep, Stevie.” 

∞ 

War breaks out in Europe and the newspapers Steve sometimes draws for all speculate about when America is going to get involved. Part of Steve is hoping the US will get involved, if only to help the people in the war torn countries. The other half hopes desperately that it ends before the US can send troops. Steve would serve with pride if they would take him. They won’t, he knows, but they will take Bucky. So he reads the newspaper every chance he gets and says a prayer every night for the war to end. 

Bucky comes home later and later as the war continues. He knows the war is getting worse, that America really only needs one excuse to get involved. He knows when they do, his number will come up. He works extra shifts at the docks, odd jobs wherever he can to squirrel away some money. If he has to leave, he needs to be sure Steve is taken care of. It’ll be winter before they know it, and what will Steve do then? He always gets sick once the snow starts coming down. Bucky’s spent his whole life protecting Steve, and he’ll be damned if he stops just because he won’t physically be there for Steve. 

Bucky holds Steve extra close at night. Takes every opportunity to kiss Steve, tell him he loves him. He shows his love with his hands and mouth, spends every night with his face buried in Steve’s neck tucked against his pulse point, falls asleep to Steve’s raspy breathing. 

Steve is out buying groceries when the news of Pearl Harbor breaks. He goes home empty handed and sits on the couch staring at nothing. He hasn’t moved when Bucky gets home, earlier than usual, and pulls Steve into a rough hug. 

“We have to do something.” Steve says into Bucky’s chest. He feels it when Bucky freezes. 

“There isn’t anything we can do, Steve.” 

“We can enlist.” Steve tilts his head back to look Bucky in the eye, show him he’s serious. 

“Stevie.” Bucky sighs, shakes his head searching for words. 

“You think they won’t take me?” Steve pulls free of Bucky’s arms. He clenches his jaw as Bucky winces. “You do.” 

“Steve.” Bucky grabs Steve’s hand between both of his. “You are the bravest man I know. I have no doubt you would be the best soldier the American army could ever ask for, but you can only hear out of one ear, and when you run more than 2 blocks you have to use your inhaler. I love you, but I’m not sure joining the army is something you can do.” Bucky wishes he could take it back almost immediately. The first rule of Steve Rogers is if you tell him he can’t do something, he’ll find a way to do it. “That didn’t come out right.” 

Steve yanks his hand, taking a few steps back. “I think it came out just like you meant it to.” He turns and strides into the bedroom, coming out with a pillow and a blanket. “I think I’ll sleep out here tonight.” 

“Steve, please.” Bucky starts, stepping towards him. 

“Don’t.” Steve holds up a hand. “Just don’t, Buck.” 

Bucky watches as Steve stiffly makes the couch up and gets in, back to Bucky. Bucky turns and walks away. He lies awake in bed for hours, listening to Steve toss and turn on the couch. It’s too cold for Steve to be out there with only one blanket. He’s almost fallen asleep when the bed shifts under the weight of Steve climbing on. He doesn’t move, waiting for Steve to make the first move. He feels Steve’s breath on his face, and then Steve is tucking his body against Bucky’s throwing his blanket over the both of them. 

“Don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you.” Steve whispers. 

Bucky brushes a kiss against Steve’s forehead. “Course not.” He doesn’t fall asleep until he feels Steve’s even breaths against his chest, even then it’s a struggle for him to close his eyes. How many more times will he get to hold Steve close to him while he sleeps? Not enough, he’s sure of that. 

Steve goes to the enlistment center for the first time the next day. He’s rejected. He spends four hours refusing to even acknowledge Bucky’s presence, before he gives up and shoves Bucky’s head towards his crotch. Bucky sucks him off, and pretends not to notice the wetness in Steve’s eyes when they lay curled together afterwards. 

Bucky spends as much time as possible trying to earn extra money. He knows Steve is attempting to get in shape while he’s working. He’s come home to Steve passed out on the couch in sweaty clothes, shivering from where the sweat has turned cold, inhaler gripped in his hand. Steve never mentions it, so neither does Bucky. He just holds Steve as close as Steve will allow, and prays to every deity he can think of for just one more day/week/month/year. 

Bucky gets his draft letter two days after Steve’s fourth enlistment rejection. He puts off telling Steve until three days before he has to leave for basic. Steve is furious. At himself and Bucky. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me sooner?” Steve isn’t yelling but it’s a near thing. 

“I didn’t want you to be upset!” Bucky reaches out, but Steve steps away. 

“And you thought hiding it would be less upsetting?!” The glare on Steve’s face makes Bucky shrink back. 

“Is this how you want to spend my last few days? Yelling at each other?” Bucky knows it’s blatant manipulation, but he’s to tired and worried to care. He’d rather spend the next few days making love with Steve than arguing. 

“No.” Steve says angrily, but with less venom. 

Bucky reaches out slowly, giving Steve time to move away, before reeling Steve into his chest. “Just let me love you for a little while, yeah?” 

Steve nods and lets Bucky lead him to the bedroom. He can feel tears building in his eyes from the anger and frustration but also worry and fear. He lets Bucky undress him slowly, before returning the favor. “Let me try something tonight?” 

“Baby, we’ve talked about this-“ 

“Not that. Let me suck you?” Steve interrupts. Bucky is always terrified that Steve will have an asthma attack if he tries, and whenever Steve has pushed the issue, Bucky distracts him with his hand or mouth. “Please, Buck.” 

“You’ll stop if it gets to be too much?” 

“Mhmm.” Steve pushes Bucky back onto the bed. He kneels between Bucky’s thighs and grips his hips, looking up when Bucky runs a hand through his hair. 

“So gorgeous.” Bucky murmurs. “All mine.” 

“Yours.” Steve agrees. He kisses Bucky’s hip bones that stick out slightly from too many nights without food. He keeps his eyes on Bucky’s as he takes the head into the mouth, focuses on breathing through his nose. He wants to make this good for Buck, and he knows nothing will sour the mood more than if he starts wheezing. 

Bucky groans lowly while Steve experiments with how hard to suck, starting to bob up and down slowly. He watches Steve’s baby blues flutter when his cock hits the back of his throat. Steve pulls back before he can choke, popping off to take a deep breath. “So good, baby. Love those lips wrapped around my cock. It’s even better than your pretty fingers.” 

Steve can feel his blush spread from his face down his chest, but he just takes Bucky back in his mouth. He strokes what he can’t fit in his mouth, letting saliva drip down to ease the friction, one hand wrapped tight around Bucky’s knot. He hums as precome fills his mouth. 

Bucky moans and uses every ounce of willpower in his body to keep from thrusting into Steve’s warm, wet mouth. “I’m not gonna last much longer, Stevie. You look so good down there. Pretty blue eyes and gorgeous red lips. God, baby, you’re a goddamn angel.” 

Steve pulls back when he feels Bucky’s balls draw up tight to his body. “Wanna come on me, Buck?” He opens his mouth and looks up at Bucky through his lashes, blinking slowly. He twists his hand slowly around Bucky’s knot, and strokes the rest faster. “Won’t be able to get your smell off me.” 

“Goddamn, Stevie. So perfect. Mine.” Bucky grunts, threading his fingers through Steve’s and stroking himself faster. Steve grips his knot tighter, and Bucky gives in, painting Steve’s face with his come. As soon as he’s finished, he growls and pulls Steve onto his chest, flipping them so Steve’s on his back. “Look so good covered with me.” He trails his fingers through the come, gathering it, and feeding it to Steve. “Goddamn, Stevie. What did I do to deserve you?” He kisses the taste of himself out of Steve’s mouth, and slips downward, pulling Steve’s legs over his shoulders and taking his cock to the back of his throat. 

It takes Steve less than two minutes to come, nearly smothering himself with the pillow in an effort not to scream the neighbors awake. His feels bone tired from the pleasure, yanks on Bucky’s hand lazily until Bucky cuddles behind him, tucking Steve into his chest, his face pressed to Steve’s neck. 

“What am I going to do without you?” 

Steve feels the words against his neck. He wants to turn over and face Bucky, but he knows Bucky isn’t ready for that, is trying to deal with this the best he can. He snuggles backwards, relaxing in the heat Bucky’s body offers. He doesn’t say anything, just lets Bucky’s breathing turn even with sleep. “I should be going with you.” 

They spend every last moment in bed together, only getting out to eat, piss, and shower. Steve tries to walk Bucky to the bus, but Bucky insists Steve stay in bed where it’s warm. 

“Can’t have you getting sick when I’m not here to look after you.” He says weakly, giving Steve one last kiss before he heads to the door. “I’ll be back after basic, before I ship out. Try not to burn the place down.” He’s gone before Steve has a chance to respond. 

Steve gives himself the rest of the day to wallow in his misery, before he pulls himself together and does something productive. He goes back to trying to get in shape, spends his free time drawing pictures that always end up looking like Bucky, and drafting letters he can’t make himself send. When he gets especially lonely he visits his Mom’s grave. Sits and talks to her for as long as he can stand the cold, tells her all about Bucky and the war. Once a week Steve goes to the pictures and marinates in his self-pity while pictures of the troops are flashed on screen. He gets in to more fights during the time Bucky is gone than he has in the previous three years. 

When he sees Bucky coming down the alley to rescue him from the fight he's in with some jackass from the pictures, just like he used to when they were younger, his heart stops and then starts pounding double time. Bucky picks up his rejection letter and only shakes his head, pulls Steve as close as he can. “Missed you.” He whispers into the top of Steve’s head, leading Steve to their apartment. 

Once the door is closed, Steve’s back pressed up against it, Bucky’s nipping the skin behind Steve’s ear, Steve asks the question he’s dreading the answer to. “How long?” 

“Just a few hours.” Bucky tilts his head back to give Steve a sad smile. “I ship out tonight.” 

Steve grips Bucky’s hair and tugs his head closer, kissing him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. There’s a scream waiting to burst out of Steve’s chest, but Steve’s going to take advantage of every second he can. He kisses Bucky until he’s out of breath and his chest hurts from the lack of air. 

Bucky pulls back, lips swollen, eyes dilated. He stops Steve’s hand from drifting downward. “Not tonight. I don’t want our last time to be sad or desperate. Let me just hold you for a while, yeah? And then we’ll go to the expo, do something fun I can make the guys jealous about.” 

Steve bites his lips, nods jerkily. He’d rather suck Bucky’s cock than go to the expo, but it’s probably best they don’t start something, because Steve’s not sure he’d be able to let Bucky go after. “Yeah.” 

Bucky stretches out on their ratty couch and pulls Steve on top of him. “I just wanna listen to you breathe, baby. Hardest thing about basic was learning to fall asleep when I couldn’t hear you breathing. Kept wakin’ up thinking something was wrong. None of the other guys’ breathing was right. Just let me breathe you in.” He mumbles against Steve’s neck, nose brushing his ear as he talks. He thinks he should have told Steve he’s his mate, should be telling him right now. But what will Steve do if Bucky dies? It’s better he leave without Steve knowing. Steve might be able to move on if the worst happens. 

Steve settles in and focuses on breathing deep and evenly, the way he does after an attack, feeling the air fill his lungs up, pause, and his lungs deflate as he breathes out. He’s not aware of how much time is passing as he lays there, Bucky grumbling nonsense sounds into his throat, sucking lightly so he leaves only the faintest marks every once in a while. 

Eventually, Bucky surfaces from whatever headspace he’s been in, and slides Steve off his body. He pushes himself to his feet and threads his fingers through Steve’s. “Let’s go see what new inventions Stark’s cooked up.” His smile is brittle, but Steve returns it anyway and follows him out the door. 

There are two omega girls near the ticket booth when they walk up. Bucky recognizes one of them as the sister of a guy he worked at the docks with. “Why don’t you ladies join us? The more the merrier.” 

Steve would prefer it be just him and Bucky on Bucky’s last night, but the women look a little lost, and he’d hate for some asshole alpha to get any ideas. “This kind of thing is always more fun in a group.” Steve offers. 

Both women are looking at Bucky with speculative gazes, but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice. He grins at Steve and offers his arm to one of the girls, always the gentleman. Steve trails along next to him, the other girl, _Kathy_ he thinks her name is, has her arm linked with Jessica, the girl on Bucky’s arm. Steve looks around spotting an enlistment center. He waits until Bucky is occupied with the speech Stark is making about a flying car or something before he slips off. He knows this this is his last chance, if he doesn’t get approved, Bucky will head overseas and Steve will be stuck here. Bucky catches him as he’s about to enter. “Steve!” 

Steve stops and turns, waits as Bucky jogs up to him. “I have to, Buck.” 

Bucky frowns. “I know.” He wrenches Steve forward into a rough hug. “I’m gonna miss you, punk.” 

“I’m gonna miss you too, jerk.” 

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” Bucky pleads into Steve’s hair. 

“I can’t. You’re takin all the stupid with you.” Steve smirks when Bucky pulls back. 

“Love you, Stevie.” He runs a hand through Steve’s hair quickly. He smiles and straightens his shoulder, turning back towards the girls. 

“You too.” Steve yells to Bucky’s back. 

Bucky turns around to salute Steve, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and then the girls are yanking on his arm, and he’s walking away. 

Steve takes a deep breath, waits for the moisture to recede from eyes, before making his way inside the enlistment center. He mentally keeps his fingers crossed as he gets weighed and they check his blood pressure. It’s when he’s waiting for the doctor to come, MP standing guard, he really starts to panic. He hopes he’s not about to go to jail for trying to fight for his country. Then Doctor Erskine walks in and gives him the opportunity that he’s been hoping for. He thinks of Bucky’s face when he told Steve he was shipping out, thinks of all the people suffering, and knows he’s going to do whatever it takes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so so so sorry it took so long to post this, it turned out to be way longer than expected, and a lot less porn-y, so to those of you here for the porn, I’m sorry. Thank you to everyone who has left comments or kudos. Warning for a ton of bad language later in the story and knotting. Bucky has quite the potty mouth. This ended up basically being a retelling of the first movie, so I hope y’all are into that. All mistakes are my own. I hate to re-read my own stuff so it’s a struggle to catch all the mistakes. Plus, this was a lot to re-read. A lot.

Basic is exactly like Steve thought it would be. It’s full of arrogant Alphas and posturing Betas, not an omega in sight. In fact, the only surprising thing about basic is Peggy Carter. She’s as beautiful as she is intimidating, and as a female Alpha, she doesn’t take shit from anyone. 

Steve makes a great first impression with her by falling flat on his face while they run through tires, taking the two alphas behind him down with him. He notices her barely concealed grin while he’s catching his breath still splayed out on the ground, praying his ribs just _feel_ broken. He pretends he’s not blushing when he gets off the ground. 

That night, when Whitmore and Jenkins get their revenge by stealing his towel and dry clothes while he’s showering, leaving him stranded in the shower, he ignores Peggy Carter’s raised eyebrows when he struts out with the shower curtain curled around his body. 

It takes Steve two days before he realizes the flutter he gets in his chest when Peggy is around is attraction. He might not have realized it at all if he hadn’t damn near gotten hard when she punched Hodge in the face during inspection. It takes him aback completely. He’s only ever noticed Bucky, but now he looks at Peggy and his insides tingle with a familiar warm feeling. He lies awake at night listening to the snores from the other men and tries to sort out his feelings. It makes him sick to think he’s betraying Bucky in any way with his feelings for Peggy. 

He doesn’t get that much time to dwell on it, though. Not with Colonel Phillips looking at him with undisguised skepticism. He pushes himself even harder when he feels Philips’ glare on his back as he lags behind on runs, or when he drops his rifle for the fifth time attempting to scale a wall in full combat gear. He’s used to people looking at him with pity when he has to stop, struggling to breathe. Normally, it makes him angry, makes him push himself harder, but Phillips is a soldier trying to train other soldiers in order to win a war. His glares make Steve work harder, but not out of anger, instead he pushes himself to prove he is worthy of being there. 

The days blend together. They’re woken up at the crack of dawn, forced on a 5 mile run, when they finish they eat a cold breakfast and report for field training. They practice firing weapons from a variety of positions, do a countless number of pushups and jumping jacks, eat a pre-packaged lunch, run obstacle course after obstacle course, eat dinner, and fall exhausted into their cots at night. He finds himself writing letters to Bucky he’s not allowed to send, and wondering if there are letters waiting at home for him going unanswered. He hopes while he’s lying awake at night worrying about Bucky, Bucky isn’t doing the same on the front lines, wondering why Steve hasn’t responded. 

Doctor Erskine pulls him aside two weeks into training. It's their free hour, the one they're supposed to spend reading up on strategy and weapon systems, but most of the guys use to wrestle or play poker. Steve's taken to reading under the shade of a big oak near the mess hall to avoid the other guys trying to talk him into their latest pissing contest. Erskine finds him there and calls him over. He waits while Steve jogs up, book tucked under his arm. "If you would just come with me, Steven." 

Steve acquiesces, following Erskine back to his office in silence, sensing the somber mood the doctor is in. He only starts to feel nervous when Erskine waves him into a chair, shutting the door behind Steve, and taking a seat at his desk, a stern look in his eyes. 

"Your blood work just came back." He takes his glasses off, wipes them carefully with his shirt. "Can you guess what I found in yours?" 

Steve shifts minutely in his chair. He can guess what the blood work showed, but he'll be damned if he volunteers that he's an omega and Erskine is talking about something completely different. "I imagine a low blood count and an iron deficiency, sir." 

The look Erskine favors Steve with shows just how unimpressed he is with that response. "That was present as well. I was instead, referring to your orientation as an omega." 

Steve drops his head guiltily. "It's not like it's an issue. I've never had a heat. The doctor told me I never would, my body wouldn't be able to handle it." 

Erskine hums thoughtfully. "Yes, I can see it would be difficult for you. You really do pass as a beta extremely well, even with your stature." 

Steve just nods, keeping his eyes down. 

"It's so difficult to keep these things sorted, you know. You'd be amazed by how much paperwork we lose." Erskine says slowly. "I do believe your labs have been misplaced. Such a shame, I'm sure you’re perfectly healthy." 

Steve's head snaps up, mouth open in surprise. 

Erskine chuckles and winks, dropping Steve's labs into the trash. "If no one else has figured it out, I don't see a reason why we should enlighten anyone. Those big, tough alphas might faint if they knew an omega was out here training with them." 

"I don't know what to say except thank you, sir." 

"We betas have to stick together." Erskine looks at the clock ticking away on the wall. "Now hurry along, Steven. I wouldn't want you to miss your afternoon run." 

Steve leaves the office feeling like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. He’s distracted through their run, lagging behind like usual, so he misses the first part of the Sergeant’s speech about the flag. He watches in amusement as the alphas scramble over each other in an attempt to climb the flag pole. He’s catching his breath when he sees Agent Carter’s smirk of amusement before she turns back around. He waits until the Sergeant calls everyone back in formation before he hobbles forward, muscles shaking from the run, and pulls the pin out. 

It’s silent as the flag pole hits the ground. He tosses the pieces and grabs the flag handing it to the dumbstruck Sergeant before climbing into the back of the truck, chest puffing with pride when Peggy turns around to look at him with an impressed look in her eyes. 

He’s still panting when the truck drops him back off at base. He’s the first to the mess hall so the food is still hot, putting him in an even better mood. He eats quickly, before the rest of the recruits show up and ruin it, and he manages to get in a quick nap in the barracks before the other guys pile in, loud and angry. He catches the look in a few of the alpha’s eyes and decides to make a hasty retreat. He wanders back to his favorite spot, pencil and paper in hand. 

He sketches idly as the sun sets, basking in the cooling heat. He realizes he’s sketched the apartment he and Bucky lived in and his heart gives a painful jolt. Bucky was the one who really encouraged Steve’s art, saving up money for the good drawing paper and graphite pencils. He even spent one summer working double shifts every day so Steve could take an art class at the community center before it was shut down. He looks down, smoothing the edges of the paper, before giving into his frustration and ripping up the paper. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty about what he’s doing. He’s just trying to fight for his country the same way Bucky is. He curls himself into a ball, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut. Bucky would be proud, _right_? 

He’s woken the next morning by an air raid siren blaring. It’s just a drill, to prepare them for bomb raids overseas, and they’ve been having them once a week since his arrival, so Steve’s body mostly moves on it’s own. He finds himself standing at attention on the obstacle course before he even realizes it. It’s not the worst start to his day he’s had at training, but it definitely sets the tone for the day. 

After a grueling two hour march, ammunition practice, and having to commando crawl through a mud patch brimming with barbed wire, they’ve finally settled into a cool down of jumping jacks and push-ups when Steve spots Colonel Phillips talking with Doctor Erskine. Peggy is calling out the drills, throwing out insults that Steve privately wants to laugh at, when he’s startled by Phillips yelling, “Grenade!” 

He feels like everything happens in slow motion. He sees the grenade rolling, the other guys making a break for it, and he sees Peggy. She’s too close to the grenade, and she’s not backing away. In fact, he sees her moving closer. He acts on instinct and throws himself on the grenade, hoping his body will shield enough of the blast that no one else will get hurt. He find himself thinking at least he’ll die doing something worthwhile. 

But the grenade doesn’t go off. It’s a dud. He’s both painfully relieved and extremely confused. “Is this a test?” He calls out. He waits, but Phillips only shakes his head and walks off. Peggy has that impressed look on her face, the one that makes Steve’s insides go all warm and gooey. Doctor Erskine looks like Christmas came early. He assumes if it was a test, it’s one he’s passed. The Sergeant takes over for Peggy, telling them they can finally go grab lunch from the mess, but Erskine waves Steve over before he can leave. 

“Steven, my boy, you’ve just convinced Colonel Phillips that you are in fact, a good candidate for the serum. He’s gone to get the go ahead for it.” He claps a friendly hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Training is over. It’s time for us to win the war.” 

Steve leaves the field in a daze, heading to the showers instead of the mess. By the time he’s finished washing himself down, mind spinning all the while, and made it back to the barracks, his stuff is all that remains. He sits on his cot and takes out a sheet of paper. He was told at the start that if he did get the serum, it could kill him. He picks up a pencil stub and starts writing. 

_Dear Bucky,_

 _I know you’ll be pissed if you get this. I went and did something stupid. I guess you didn’t take all the stupid with you, after all. I know you won’t be surprised, but I went and joined the army, just like you were afraid I would. I had to try, Buck, you have to understand that. I couldn’t stand the thought of you over there fighting, and me not doing everything possible to join you. I guess you probably figured that if you’re reading this, I didn’t make it. I didn’t say it often enough, but I love you with everything in me. Till the end of the line, pal. This is just the end of line for me._

 _

Yours, 

Steve

_

He carefully folds the piece of paper up and sticks it in his trunk. Tomorrow he’ll find an envelope and label it, and give it to Erskine before the procedure. The quiet of the barracks is disconcerting after weeks spent with the noises of so many alphas and betas in close quarters. He shifts to pull a dog-eared and worn paperback Bucky bought him for Christmas last year. It’s a stupid Omega harlequin romance, the kind the older betas and omegas raise their noses at, but hide in their nightstands. Steve punched Bucky in the arm when he unrolled it from the day old newspaper it’d been concealed in, but later found out that tucked in between the pages were love notes written by Bucky for Steve. 

Erskine finds Steve’s sitting there, book in hand, sometime after the dinner bell rings. The doctor brings with him a bottle of alcohol and pair of glasses. He sits across from Steve, sighing heavily. “You know, people forget that the first country the Nazis invaded was their own. This is one of the few things I have left of my village. My childhood, reduced to a bottle of scotch and fading memories.” He shakes his head. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Erskine raises an eyebrow. “Just one?” 

Steve smiles. “Why me?” 

“Yes, I suppose that is the only one that matters.” He sets the alcohol down. “The serum amplifies everything. Bad becomes worse, what’s good becomes even better. For alphas, their natural protective instincts can turn dark, turn to possession. Schmidt was this way. His already narcissistic tendencies became even more grandiose. It is why I’m not worried about you, Steven. You have protective instincts but they are self-sacrificial in nature. You put everyone else ahead of yourself. It is how I know you’re a good man. Promise me you’ll always remember that.” 

“Even though I’m an omega?” Steve frowns. “A broken one at that.” 

Doctor Erskine leans forward to make eye contact with Steve. “You are not broken, Steven. I fear your body just doesn’t match the strength of your mind. Though maybe it is better this way. Are you sure that you would be the same person you are now, if not for struggles this body has brought you? You are strong of mind and character, Steven, that is what matters to me. Now your body will simply match.” 

”I’ll drink to that.” Steve grins, reaching for a glass after Erskine pours a little bit into both glasses. 

“Wait, no you can’t drink that. You have the procedure in the morning.” Erskine takes the glass out of Steve’s hand, emptying the contents into his own. He downs the glass, patting Steve on the thigh. “I’d best leave you to your rest. I’ll pour you a glass after.” 

Steve waves Erskine off and resigns himself to another sleepless night. He spends most of the night sketching, finally dozing off face smashed into the paper only a few hours before the Staff Sergeant marches into the barracks to collect him. 

He’s barely coherent as he stumbles to the car, so he doesn’t even notice that Peggy is inside until he’s shut the door behind him and is sleepily rubbing his eyes with one hand, while the other finishes buttoning his dress shirt. He’s visibly startled when he hears, 

“Good Morning, Rogers” 

“Sir, I mean Ma’am. Umm, Agent Carter. Good Morning, yes.” Steve stammers out. 

Peggy smiles and looks away. “Sleep well?” 

“Not really, Ma’am.” Steve replies honestly. 

“I suppose that’s normal, considering the circumstances.” Peggy says, looking out the window. “Are you nervous?” 

Steve thinks about the note tucked into the pocket of his dress shirt with the name James Barnes written on the front. “Not as much as I should be.” 

Peggy gives Steve a thoughtful look, letting the silence grow between them. Steve sweats nervously and attempts to not fidget too much. He perks up as he realizes they’re heading into the city. He can feel anxiety bubbling under his skin, so he starts talking in an attempt to burn off some of the nervous energy. 

He points out all the places he was beat up, avoiding Peggy’s stare. He’s taken aback by her comment about running away. It sounds like something Bucky would say. Then in an effort to not think about Bucky, or how beautiful Peggy looks, or how guilty he feels for thinking Peggy is beautiful, he starts to babble, screaming internally at himself for being an idiot. 

“Have you actually ever talked a woman before?” Peggy asks, amused. 

“Not an alpha one, Ma’am.” Steve huffs out a laugh. 

Peggy hums. “I suppose you would have more experience with women of the omega persuasion.” 

Steve flushes. “Minimally.” 

“I find that difficult to believe.” Peggy raises an eyebrow. “A handsome beta like yourself must have taken a lovely omega dancing once or twice.” 

“I guess I haven’t found the right dance partner yet.” Steve shrugs as the car pulls up to the sidewalk and parks. He steps out and smooths down his uniform, fixing his cover onto his head. He follows behind Peggy through the antique shop past an equally antique beta woman, down the various hallways and into a large room. 

Every one stops to stare as he and Peggy enter. Steve represses the urge to turn around and walk out. Erskine waves him down the stairs and to the machine. 

“I could use that drink right about now, Doc.” Steve says, looking around at all the nurses and different machines, consciously avoiding looking up at the glass where the Politicians and Brass are seated. 

Erskine smiles, clapping Steve on the back. “You’ll need to remove your hat and shirt, if you’re sure you want to do this.” 

Steve responds by handing his hat over and unbuttoning his shirt. He hears Erskine ask Peggy if she would be more comfortable upstairs, so he spares her as reassuring a look as possible before she climbs the stairs. 

His brain is blissfully blank as he climbs into the machine and a nurse sticks him with a needle. He smiles feebly at Erskine. “That wasn’t so bad.” 

“That was penicillin.” Erskine gives Steve a fond look. “Remember what we talked about.” He says quietly, before turning and facing the glass windows, speaking into a microphone. 

Steve tunes him out, tunes everything out, instead focusing on keeping his breathing even and steady. He watches as the machine closes around him, and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as the needles dig into his skin. The machine whirrs and he can barely hear Stark calling out the energy levels. 

It’s a pain unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He holds in a scream as long as he can, but the pain keeps getting worse. He feels like his whole body is on fire, his muscles stretching beyond capacity. He hears Peggy yell for them to shut it off, and he uses the rest of his energy to yell back, “I can handle it!” 

He’s honestly not sure if he blacks out or not. He just knows it’s all he can do to keep his body, his new **tall/heavy/healthy** body, upright when the machine opens. He steps out of the machine totally disoriented, with a brand new body and slick dripping down his leg. 

Later, he’ll be thankful the adrenaline rush of the bomb going off and Erskine getting shot seemed to stop his heat before it could really begin. He chases down the Hydra agent with fury pushing his panic to the back of his mind, but once the alpha is dead and he’s back in the lab having a shit ton of blood drawn from him, the panic starts to surface. Without Erskine how is he going to keep his orientation a secret? 

Peggy finds him just as the nurse is carting the blood away. “I thought there was something different about you.” Peggy walks slowly around the table he’s sitting on. “Besides the obvious new body, I mean.” 

Steve freezes, looking up at Peggy with eyes wide with fear. 

“Alphas have a good sense of smell naturally, you know. I happen to have a better nose than average.” She turns to look Steve fully in the eye. “You never did have the same baseline smell so many of the other betas have, and you definitely didn’t smell like a beta when you stepped out of that machine. So I only have one question. Did Erskine know?” 

Steve thinks briefly about lying, but he can’t bring himself too. “Yeah. He saw my bloodwork.” 

Peggy nods decisively. “He obviously chose to keep it a secret. I trust he knew what he was doing.” She looks Steve over from head to toe. “How are you feeling? You smelled like you were close to heat earlier.” 

Steve feels his blush spread all the way down his chest. “I think the adrenaline rush kept it at bay.” 

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to requisition some heat blockers. They’ll neutralize your scent, so no one else will be able to tell, and they’ll keep you from going into heat for the next year.” She pauses. “Although, with your increased metabolism, it could be less time than that. In any case, it’ll get you out of here without the entire government finding out that their new Super Soldier isn’t what they thought he was.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” Steve stammers out. “Why are you helping me?” 

“Erskine chose you for a reason. You’re a good man, and I’d hate to let a little thing like your orientation keep you from doing what we’ve just spent weeks training you for.” She shakes her head, and holds out his letter to Bucky. “This was in your shirt pocket.” 

Steve takes it with shaking hands. “Did you read it?” 

“I admit that I was curious, but I didn’t want to cross a line.” She leans against the table next to him. 

“I was lying when I said I hadn’t found the right partner.” Steve says, tucking the letter in his pocket. 

Peggy smiles at him. “I’m glad.” She pats his thigh. “Just wait here a few more minutes, I’ll be back with the blockers.” 

Steve nods and waits. He takes the note out of his pocket and stares at it, contemplates ripping it up, but decides not to. Peggy is back shortly with four shiny pills and glass of water. 

“I doubled up the dose. Hopefully, it’s enough.” Peggy says quietly, dropping the pills in Steve’s hand. 

He gulps them down quickly. “What now?” 

“Now we find out what Colonel Phillips wants to do with you.” Peggy replies, taking a few deep breaths. “They work fast. Your scent is already fading.” 

He follows Peggy out of the medical ward and down to where Colonel Phillips is talking to someone Steve thinks is a Senator, while Howard Stark examines the submarine they pulled out of the ocean. Colonel Phillips spots Peggy and heads towards her. 

“We’ve got our orders. We’re reporting to the front in the morning.” Colonel Phillips turns to look at Howard. “You too, Stark.” 

“Sir, what about me?” 

Colonel Phillips looks at Steve with disappointment. “They’ll need you in the lab to see if we can save anything from the serum.” 

“But sir, I could be useful.” Steve argues. 

Colonel Phillips shakes his head. “I asked for an army and all I got was you.” He walks away, Peggy following behind him. 

The senator approaches Steve. “You want to serve your country, son?” 

“That’s all I've ever wanted.” Steve answers, standing at attention. 

“Senator Brandt.” He holds out his hand for Steve to shake. “I think I might have an opportunity for you. Your file says you’re a beta. You look like an Alpha to me, son. Men want to follow other alphas, women swoon over them. I think it’s possible the serum changed your orientation, don’t you?” He pauses to give Steve a meaningful glance, who just nods in confusion. “Good, because Captain America is an Alpha.” 

∞ 

He hates being on tour. He hates reciting the stupid lines. He hates pretending to punch Hitler in the face over and over and over again. He hates the costume/uniform they stuff him into, a mockery of a real soldier’s uniform. He hates traveling from city to city and state after state performing on stage like a dancing monkey, knowing all the while Bucky is overseas fighting for his life. 

He likes the girls. They’re a nice bunch of omega and beta females who are wary of him at first, but quickly come to see he’s not like the alphas that hassle them after every show. They’re the only saving grace on campaign. A few of the girls take to waiting for Steve after the shows to walk back to whatever hotel they’re staying at for the night, usually ending up sprawled out on his floor to play a game of poker or gin rummy. He learns about their families. Dianne with her two kids and husband overseas, her mom back in the city taking care of the kids while Dianne is on tour, sending everything she makes back to them. Mary Elizabeth, one of the lead dancers, a beta who swore off love after her fiancé enlisted and was killed within two weeks of shipping out, and spends her free time knitting sweaters for the orphanage. Anna, a young omega that ran away from home when her father arranged for her to marry an abusive alpha with a drinking problem. They all have their own stories, and they're happy to share them with him, even when he doesn’t share much back. 

It’s only thanks to Dianne walking in his room at exactly the right moment that he manages not to completely blow his secret. It’s five minutes before they’re supposed to head to the bus and Dianne had stopped by to see if she left her scarf, when she catches Steve writhing on the floor, heat coming on unexpectedly and incredibly strong. 

“Steve, are you okay?’ Dianne asks, thankfully shutting the door behind her. “Oh, my.” She gasps, catching sight of Steve’s fever filled eyes. “Do you have any heat blockers?” 

Steve shakes his head quickly, trying to suppress a moan. “They weren’t supposed to wear off this fast.” 

“Okay.” Dianne says calmly. “I’ll be right back, try to stay calm.” 

Steve can’t respond. His body is on fire. He feels like he’s back in the vita-ray machine. His muscles ache, and he can feel slick leaking out of him. His cock is rock hard and painful, but he’s too out of it to take care of it. 

Dianne returns shortly with two pills in her hand. “This should take the edge off.” She drops the pills in his hand, rushing to the bathroom to get a glass of water. She helps him tilt the glass of water to his mouth so he can swallow the pills. She sits next to him on the floor, carding a hand through his hair while the pills take effect. “This happen often?” 

Steve sits up, blush staining his face. “It’s a side effect of the serum. It never happened before.” 

“Lucky for you, the dance company practically shoves the suppressants down our throats every few weeks. They don’t want to lose a dancer to something as inconvenient as a heat, or god forbid, a pregnancy. It shouldn’t be too hard to get some extra blockers for you.” She stands and opens his packed suitcase, pulling out a pair of clean pants and handing them to Steve. “You could have told us, you know.” 

Steve shakes his head, taking the pants. He puts them on while Dianne turns her back to give him some privacy. “The senator wasn’t even okay with me being a beta. No one knows that I’m an omega.” 

“That’s a big secret to have to carry around.” Dianne says quietly. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anyone.” 

“Thank you.” Steve pulls Dianne into a hug. “And thanks for the pills.” 

Dianne pats him fondly on the cheek. “No problem. We’ll just have to figure out how many and how often you need to take them. I’ll put in a request for some more, and no one will ever know.” 

So the tour continues. Dianne slips Steve two heat blockers every few weeks like clockwork, and she keeps her word, never telling a soul. Steve throws himself into being better on stage, learning to paste a fake smile on his face at the drop of a hat, and spending all his free time getting to better know the girls. He realizes he almost never feels tired, spends most of his nights sketching the dancers and the cities in his sketchbook, writing letters to Bucky and Peggy he tears out as soon as he’s finished and throws them away. When he does sleep, he only has horrible dreams, so he avoids it as much as he can. 

Senator Brandt shows up outside Steve’s hotel room when they’ve just finished a show in Buffalo, and tells him they’re taking the tour overseas. He’s finally heading to the war, but he’s not going to fight. It’s a waking nightmare. 

Italy is rainy and depressing. It fits the mood of the camp they’re at, smelling alarmingly of despair and testosterone. Steve watches the girls preform from the safety of the curtains. The alphas in the crowd are yelling out obscenities and making rude gestures. When the girls present him, he catches Dianne rolling her eyes at him. He tries not to smirk as he starts his speech. 

The crowd does not appreciate his spiel about war bonds. He doesn’t really blame them. He’s a man in a costume talking about the sacrifices these guys are making like he’s made the same ones. Still, he tries to settle them down. “We’re on the same team.” He calls out and immediately has to dodge a rotten tomato. 

Dianne motions him off the stage as the crows starts calling for the girls to come back on. He exits the stage hastily, trading in the costume pants for normal fatigues. The rain picks up again, causing the show to end as the girls scramble to the back for cover. He waves off Mary Elizabeth and Anna when they try to comfort him, choosing instead to settle himself at the back of the stage to mope. 

He’s startled out of his pity party when Peggy walks up behind him saying, “Quite a show you put on.” 

“The crowd was more hostile than I’m used to. I had to improvise a little bit.” Steve traces the figure he drew on the page with his fingers. “They tell me war bond sales go up everywhere I visit.” 

“Well, at least something good comes out of it.” Peggy sits down next to him. “Erskine would be proud.” 

Steve huffs, feeling suddenly defensive. “Phillips would have had me in a lab. At least I’m trying to do the right thing.” 

“And these are your only options? Lab rat or dancing monkey?” She nods towards his sketch. “I know you know better than that.” 

Steve shakes his head, watching as a soldier is unloaded from the back of truck into the MASH tent. “I didn’t expect it to be so depressing here. I know that’s stupid.” 

“This place is more depressing than most. Your audience contained what’s left of the 107th.” Peggy startles when Steve’s face drains of color. “What is it?” 

“The 107th?” Steve asks. “Are you sure?” 

Peggy nods, rushing to her feet when Steve jumps to his. “What’s wrong?” 

“Come on!” He yells, running to the command tent. He strides inside, Peggy hot on his heels, and marches up to Colonel Phillips. “I need to know if Sergeant James Barnes is here.” 

“Are you giving me orders, Rogers?” Phillips raises an eyebrow, slowly standing. 

“No, sir.” Steve stands at attention, pressing ahead. “Do you know if he made it back? It’s B-A-R-.” 

“I can spell.” Phillips gives Steve a once over. “I’ve been writing these condolence letters all day. I’m sorry, his name sounds familiar.” 

Steve freezes, his mind going blank. “Permission to join the rescue operation, sir.” 

“There is no rescue operation. They’re 30 miles behind enemy lines, we’d lose more men than we’d save.” Phillips turns away from Steve. “I think you’re late for your show.” He tosses over his shoulder. 

Steve gets a good look at the map, fixing it in his mind. He refuses to believe that Bucky is dead. He slips out of the tent and back to the stage where his stuff is stashed. He ignores Peggy following him. He won’t let her talk him out of what he has to do. 

“Steve, wait. You can’t do this.” Peggy grabs Steve’s arm as he picks up his shield and slings his backpack onto his back, Dianne’s helmet on his head. 

“I have to, Peggy.” Steve doesn’t look at her, just starts loading his stuff in the first truck he sees. 

“You don’t understand.” Peggy forces Steve to face her. “I mean, you don’t have to do this alone.” 

“What did you have in mind?” He knows it’s pointless to argue. If Peggy is set on helping, there’s nothing he can do to stop her, and he needs all the help he can get. 

Peggy leads him to the weapons tent where Stark is yelling at the soldiers assigned to him and tinkering with a sniper rifle. “Howard, walk with me a moment, would you?” Peggy calls him over. She has barely explained what they need him for before Howard is agreeing. 

“I’ve got a new stealth plane I’ve been wanting to try out. This is the perfect opportunity.” Howard rubs his hands together gleefully. “I need some time to get rid of these guys.” He points a thumb over his shoulder. “Meet me at the air strip in thirty minutes.” 

Peggy leads Steve the long way around camp, trying to avoid running into any one else on the way to the air strip. They walk slowly, so they’ve just about used up their thirty minutes when they arrive. Howard is already in the plane, flipping switches and buckling himself in. 

“Thanks for doing this, Howard.” Steve says as he climbs in, holding a hand out to help Peggy up, which she blatantly ignores. 

“Anything to piss Colonel Phillips off.” Howard grins. “Ladies and gentlemen if you’ll just take your seats and buckle up. I’m afraid I gave the staff the night off, so there are no refreshments available. Please keep your arms and legs inside the plane at all times, unless the plane is being shot out of the sky. In case of emergency, parachutes are located in the back of plane and exits are located wherever the hell you want. Thank you for choosing to fly Stark Stealth.” He says into the headset as he turns the plane to begin takeoff. 

Peggy snorts and buckles herself in. “Don’t worry, Steve. Howard is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen.” 

“We’re only going into enemy territory in a plane that looks like it’s been built out of aluminum foil, and with a pilot whose flying car didn’t actually fly, why would I be worried?” 

“I said it was just a prototype!” Howard yells back. “I promise this one actually flies.” 

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve responds. 

“I’ll take you all the way to their front door.” Howard says. “Peggy, give him the thing.” 

Peggy takes out a black box with an antennae and hands it over. “This is your transponder. Just hit the button, and it’ll send us your coordinates, so we can come get you.” 

Steve tucks it into his pants pocket with a smile. He lapses into silence, letting Peggy and Stark talk amongst themselves. He repeats to himself over and over, _he’s not dead, he can’t be dead_. Because if Bucky is dead, this will be Steve’s first and last mission. 

Gun fire peppering the sky snaps Steve out of the daze he’d fallen into. He unbuckles himself and slips on the parachute. “As soon as I’m out of the plane, turn this thing around and get out of here.” 

“No, Steve, we need to take you further in!” Peggy shouts to be heard over the roar of the wind coming in through the open hatch. 

“You can’t come get me if you’re shot out of the sky.” Steve shakes his head. “Get her out of here safely, Stark.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Howard half-asses a salute. 

“Be careful, Steve.” Peggy says. 

Steve just grins at her before jumping out of the plane. He won’t make a promise he can’t keep. He pulls the chord for the chute as soon as he’s clear from the plane’s propeller. He prays he doesn’t get stuck in a tree as he speeds towards the ground. 

Luck is apparently on his side as he hits the ground and takes off the chute. He leaves it lying against a tree, and follows the mental map he made toward the Hydra base. He keeps his pace at a light jog, eating up the miles as the hours pass by. He makes good time, jumping into the back of truck outside the hydra base. Steve honestly thought it would be harder to sneak inside, but it’s surprisingly easy. He takes out every guard he passes, as he searches for wherever they’re keeping the prisoners. He knocks out all the guards in the area, taking the keys off of their bodies, before he starts unlocking the prisoners’ cells. “Any of you know Sergeant Barnes?” 

A man in a bowler hat steps forward. “I know the sergeant.” 

“Is he here with you?” Steve asks, handing the keys over to a freed prisoner. “Is he alive?” 

The man shares a look with the black man with the name Jones printed on his chest. “The Sarge got taken to a different part of the facility. Lots of soldiers went back there, but none came out.” 

“But he was alive?” Steve stresses. 

Jones nods. “He put up one hell of a fight when they dragged him away.” 

“Take these men and get out of here. Head to the tree line, if I’m not there by morning, start heading West.” Steve commands, heading away from the men without waiting for a reply. Either the men will do what he ordered or not, he can’t waste any time arguing with them when he still has to find Bucky. 

Alarms start to blare as he jogs across the platform to the opposite side of the facility. He catches sight of a short man, arms full of papers, leaving a room, and thinks briefly about chasing him down. The man runs away, so Steve turns his focus to where the man came from. He gets a quick look at the map hanging on the wall before he hears a voice. His heart starts beating faster as he heads closer towards the source of the voice. 

Steve feels a rush of both overwhelming relief and intense sadness as he stumbles up to where Bucky is strapped to a table, disoriented and repeating his service number. “Bucky?” 

“Steve.” Bucky slurs. “Did they get you too? You’re supposed be safe.” Bucky closes his eyes. “You’re not really here.” 

“Yes, I am, Bucky. I’m gonna get you outta here, I promise.” Steve rips off the restraints, grabbing Bucky’s arm to help him to his feet. 

“Stevie?” Bucky leans closer to Steve, breathing in his smell. “Didn’t you use to be smaller?” 

Steve’s scent hits him like a wrecking ball, causing him to stagger on already unsteady feet. “Why do you smell like that? What happened to you?” 

“I joined the army, Buck.” Steve holds Bucky tighter against his side, pulling him into the hallway. “We gotta get outta here.” 

“I didn’t get that much bigger when I joined the army.” Bucky pokes Steve hard in the side. “You sure you’re real?” 

“Promise, Buck.” Steve takes a second to nuzzle into Bucky’s neck, placing a kiss on the corner of his jaw while he thinks about the best way out. 

“You got a plan, Stevie?” Bucky asks as they start walking again. 

“Get outta here without dying.” Steve responds promptly, pulling Bucky up the stairs. They make it up the first flight and are about to cross the rampart when Steve spots the short man from earlier, with another man Steve assumes is Schmidt. 

“Captain America, I’m a fan of your films.” Schmidt calls, strolling towards them. 

Bucky freezes as Steve slips his arm out from around his waist, heading towards Schmidt. “Steve…” Bucky calls warningly. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have time to fight today, Captain. I’m a very busy man, after all.” 

“Busy killing innocent people maybe.” Steve replies, shield held tightly in his hand. 

Schmidt clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Do you think you are special, Captain? Let me assure you, you’re not. I am Erskine’s greatest creation.” He pulls off what Steve thought was his face, revealing the reason people call him the Red Skull. 

“Your face doesn’t do that, right?” Bucky yells, eyeing the back of Steve’s skull like he’d be able to tell. 

Steve ignores him and gets ready to charge the Red Skull, when the rampart starts to separate, pulling them away from each other. 

“Another time perhaps, Captain?” Red Skull gives a mocking wave before getting into an elevator with the short man who separated them. “Then again, maybe not.” He says as the elevator doors close. 

Under Steve and Bucky things start to explode. Steve glances around looking for another exit. He pulls Bucky towards the stairs. “Come on.” 

They run up as quickly as they can. Steve spots what might be there only chance to get across, a single steel beam stretching across the factory. “You first.” He motions to Bucky. 

Bucky shakes his head. “After you.” 

“I’m not going to argue with you, Buck. I’ll be right behind you.” 

Bucky honestly doesn’t have the energy to argue, but he gives Steve a searching look before climbing over the railing and onto the beam. He tries to go as fast as he can while still staying steady. His head is spinning from weeks without enough food or water, and from whatever Zola had been injecting in him for the last couple of days. The beam shakes and creaks beneath him, causing him to move a little faster. He can feel the heat from the fire below. He decides to jump when the beam lurches dangerously beneath him, barely making it to the railing. He climbs over to safety just as the beam collapses and falls into the fire below. 

“Look around, there has to be another way!” He yells to Steve. 

“Get out of here, Bucky! There’s no time!” Steve hollers back. 

“I’m not leaving without you!” Bucky calls back desperately. He’s already living on borrowed time. He thought for sure he die here, in Zola’s evil hands. He’ll damn well burn with this goddamn place before he walks away without Steve. 

He watches as Steve looks around, before bending part of the railing back. He holds his breath while Steve backs up, gets a running start, and jumps. He lets out the breath shakily when Steve barely catches himself against the railing. He surges forward and helps Steve over, pulling him into a crushing hug. “You idiot.” He breathes into Steve’s neck. 

Steve laughs, a touch of hysteria in his voice, and pulls back. “We gotta go, Buck. This whole place is gonna blow.” 

Steve leads Bucky down the stairs and out a side door. Bodies litter the yard they cross over, burnt debris scattered everywhere. They move fast, staying in the shadow cast by the wall, until they’re out of the fence around the facility and past the tree line. 

Bucky’s breathing heavy from the pain of what he thinks might be a cracked rib or two, barely keeping pace with Steve when they run abruptly into the surviving prisoners. Dugan practically bowls him over in his rush to pull Bucky into a hug. “Glad to see you too.” He coughs. 

“Knew you wouldn’t let those Nazi scum take you down, Sarge.” Dugan pats him roughly on the back before dropping him back to his feet, where he sways slightly. 

“I might have, if I’d know I’d have to see your ugly mug again.” He jokes weakly. He clasps hands with Jones and Falsworth. 

“Now, is that how you wanna talk to the guy who sent Captain Stars and Stripes over there after your ass?” Dugan nods at where Steve is crouching by a wounded soldier, tightening a makeshift bandage around the man’s bleeding leg. 

“Thanks for that.” Bucky’s head is reeling from the adrenaline rush of escaping, he feels his hands shaking and stuffs them into his pockets before anyone else notices. “You all okay?” 

“I’ve had worse.” Jones offers, holding out a half empty canteen of water. “How about you, Sarge? Ain’t nobody come back from where they drug you off to.” 

Bucky shrugs and pastes a wide grin on his face. “I’ve had worse.” He replies. 

Jones snorts and shakes his head. Dugan eyes Bucky carefully. “I believe it.” He says, eyes furrowed like he knows Bucky’s lying through his teeth. 

Bucky’s saved from any more awkward questions by Steve making his way back over. “We can’t stay here for long. We’re still in occupied territory.” He leans his body against Bucky’s like nothing’s changed, permeating Bucky’s space with his intoxicating scent. “Some of these guys need medical attention. I could use some help.” 

Bucky sees Dugan’s raised eyebrows out of the corner of his eye. He feels the need to move closer to Steve so the other alpha knows Steve’s his, _is he still?_ , and to move away to protect Steve’s reputation. Bucky decides on the latter, shifting out from under Steve’s weight and handing the canteen back to Jones. Bucky smirks at Steve. “So get up there and give us our orders, Captain.” 

Steve frowns minutely, but is distracted by the groaning of the man whose leg he bandaged. He looks around and climbs onto a relatively flat rock, whistling to get everyone’s attention. “Listen up, guys. We’re deep in occupied territory. We can’t afford to stay here for too long, but there are guys who need medical attention. I only have basic first aid skills, so anyone with medical training come up here.” He resists the urge to tack on a please. “Once we’ve got the wounded seen to, we’ll make a plan to head out toward base.” 

"We stole some tanks, a truck or two, and some weapons, figured they might be useful" Derneir offers in accented English, he turns to Jones and says something in rapid fire French. Jones laughs and translates, "He said we liberated them really, after all, our hard work built them." 

"Good thinking. Everyone pair up. It's going to be a long walk back. Those who can't walk get loaded up in the trucks or the tank. If there is space left, the rest of you will rotate in it, so everyone gets a chance to rest. We're about thirty miles out. Get some rest guys, we head out first thing in the morning." He steps down from the rock where five betas are already waiting for him. “You guys have medical training?” He asks, waiting until they all nod. “Great, we’ll split up to cover everyone. Treat what you can, we just need to stabilize them until we make it back.” 

Bucky sees Steve look around searchingly, so he steps up and offers, “I’ll get some of the guys to fill up any canteens they can. There’s a river not far from here.” 

Steve smiles in relief. “We’re going to need bandages.” 

Morita and Falsworth step forward together. “We can handle that, Captain.” 

Steve nods at them gratefully as Bucky waves them off. “I’ll set up a guard rotation.” 

“Wait, Buck.” Steve reaches out and grabs Bucky’s arm. “Maybe you should let someone look you over.” 

“M’fine.” Bucky shrugs Steve off, ignoring Steve’s crestfallen look. “Go help those guys check everyone out.” 

Steve wavers for a moment before turning and walking off, checking in with the beta doctors. Bucky watches his back for a minute, shaking his head to clear it, and heading past where Falsworth and Morita are calmly ripping shirts into makeshift bandages. Dugan, Dernier, and Jones are all out collecting water, and there’s nothing else he can help with so he walks over to a tree a little ways away and sits down. 

It feels like he’s dreaming. He was prepared to die on that goddamn table, had accepted it as an eventuality. Now, he’s somehow made it out, he’s back with Steve, the love of his life, and he can’t bring himself to feel grateful. Steve doesn’t need him now. He went and let himself be experimented on, like some frog to be dissected in a classroom, while Bucky was literally a lab rat for some asshole Nazi scientist. He’s so fucking relieved that he doesn’t have to worry about Steve having an asthma attack and dying on him, but he’s also fucking pissed. He’s not sure whether he’s pissed that Steve let himself be fucking tortured, or the fact it happened while he was busy praying for death. All he knows is that he can’t look at Steve without wanting to punch him in the jaw or fuck him into the ground. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed before Dugan drops down next to him. “That’s your boy, the one you always talked about when we talked about home.” It’s not a question. 

Bucky frowns. “He was.” 

Dugan bumps his shoulder hard into Bucky’s. “You must not be seein’ what I’m seein’, Sarge. Those Nazi fuck up your eyes?” 

Bucky jabs an elbow half-heartedly into Dugan’s stomach. “That’s the reason we call you Dum-Dum. You just open your big ol’ trap without thinking about what you’re gonna say first.” 

Dugan laughs loudly, causing a few soldiers to look over at them. “I see how it is. Next time Hydra shows up I’m just going to hand you over.” He smirks as Bucky chuckles and flips him the bird. “I’m serious you know. He looks at you like you hung the goddamn moon.” 

Bucky doesn’t reply, eyes on Steve as he crouches down next to a young soldier, barely old enough to be over in this hell hole, and pats him on the back, speaking to him quietly. “He was a tiny thing, if you can imagine that.” Bucky says quietly. “A personality too big for his body. Willing to pick a fight with anyone who looked at him wrong.” 

“That second part I can believe.” Dum-Dum says just as quietly. “You shoulda seen his face when he was askin about you, back there. He looked like if you were dead, he wasn’t leaving that place alive.” 

“That sounds like him.” Bucky shakes his head. “Too stubborn for his own good about all the wrong things. Shoulda left my ass years ago. He’s always been destined for more.” 

“He’s not the only stubborn one.” Dum-Dum raises an eyebrow. “He’s also not the only one making cow eyes. He might look at you like you hung the moon, but you look at him like he’s the goddamn sun.” 

Bucky scowls at Dugan. “You get a degree in poetry or something?” 

Dugan shoves Bucky and stands, walking away. 

“No seriously, that was beautiful, Dugan. You got one lucky lady, if you write her that kind of shit.” Bucky hollers, laughing when Dugan flips him off over his shoulder. He straightens when he spots Steve coming towards him. He rises quickly to his feet, stifling a wince when the movement jars his ribs. “I’ve got first watch.” He tries not to notice how heartbroken Steve looks. 

He keeps watch for four long, boring hours. He feels bad for waking Morita from what was obviously a deep sleep, but the crash of his earlier adrenaline rush is settling in, and Bucky’s exhausted. Morita grumbles but gets up, and Bucky takes his spot, falling asleep within seconds. 

He wakes briefly when Morita shakes Dernier awake, and then fully later, when Steve gets up as the sun starts to rise. He stands and starts waking the men around him before Steve can get to him. He feels like a complete asshole, but he just doesn’t know what to say to Steve yet. 

They don’t have any food, but most of the men were at least fed the day before, so none of them complain too much. Steve and the betas with medical training load the few badly wounded men onto the trucks, leaving some space of the tank for people to rest on. “Let’s move out.” Steve calls from the front of the group. 

Bucky may not know how he’s feeling about Steve, but he’ll be damned if he leaves him unprotected in enemy territory. He jogs to front, next to Steve, liberated Hydra weapon in his hand. Steve gives him an earthshattering smile, which Bucky tries and fails to return. 

They have to stop every few hours to rest. The men are weak from weeks of hard labor and poor diet. They refill the water canteens whenever they get the chance, and the people resting on the tanks switch at every stop. Bucky refuses to take a turn resting as does Steve. Falsworth finds some berries hes _“ninety percent positive won’t kill us"_ so Bucky eats for the first time in days. Bucky scowls when he sees Steve hand his to the young soldier he’d talked to the day before. 

They stop when the sun sets. Steve shuffles his feet self-consciously when several soldiers approach him to ask about a guard rotation. He may be good at leading, but it still makes him feel a little like the ninety pound asthmatic he was not too long ago with all these big alphas waiting for his orders. 

The day repeats itself over and over again as they slowly make their way closer to safety. Bucky does a good job of never letting Steve out of sight, while also never being close enough for Steve to start up a conversation with him. Bucky mostly spends his time with Dugan or Jones. They formed a bond being captured together, and he knows they feel the same need to be close together after coming so close to death. Bucky spends his nights fighting to sleep, and realizing he misses the sound of Steve wheezing next to him. Steve spends his nights trying to give Bucky his space. He figures he should have known this would happen. Bucky fell in love with a slip of a man, and Steve is anything but that now. 

It takes a week to make it to camp. Steve, from the head of the group, ignores the soldiers rushing towards them. He keeps walking straight into the center of camp, only stopping when he sees Peggy and Colonel Phillips in front of him. He stands at attention, salutes Phillips, starring him in the eye. “I’d like to submit myself for disciplinary action.” He catches Peggy’s smile and Bucky’s aborted motion towards him, but keeps his focus on Phillips as he shakes his head. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Phillips replies. 

Steve lets the relief wash over him as Phillips turns and walks away. He straightens back up when Peggy approaches him. She eyes Bucky standing protectively next to him, guard visibly raised as she gets closer. 

She smirks at him, but Steve can see the relief in her eyes. “You’re late.” 

He digs in his pocket and pulls out the broken transponder. “I couldn’t call my ride.” 

Peggy harrumphs, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t let it happen again.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” He says with a smile. 

Bucky watches the interaction with a sense of dread slowly taking over his body. Of course Steve would find someone else. A pretty female alpha with a spine of steel no less. Bucky’s man enough to admit he can’t compete with that. He waits until they’re done talking ( _flirting_ ), and then calls out. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!” 

Steve turns to give him that gorgeous smile, and he smiles back the best he can. Steve turns back around as soldiers crowd closer to pat him on the back and thank him. Bucky’s smile slips off his face as soon as Steve’s back is turned. He thought Zola was a nightmare, but nothing compares to loosing Steve to someone else. He slips away before Steve notices, determined to find some food and some alcohol, not necessarily in that order, and drink until it stops hurting so fucking much. 

Dugan drags him out of the mess hall when the cooks start making noise about throwing Bucky out. Bucky isn’t nearly as drunk as he’d like to be, as he should be for the amount of alcohol he drank, but his vision is blurry from lack of sleep, and he’s exhausted from the constant throbbing of his ribs. The other alpha has to practically carry Bucky down to a tent housing Morita, Jones, Falsworth, and Dernier. Dugan drops Bucky on the cot next to his own, obviously set aside for him, with a shake of his head. “Go to sleep, Sarge.” 

Bucky almost expects Steve to be waiting by his bedside when he wakes up, surprisingly not hungover, but he’s not. Dugan tells him he’s locked in a meeting with the upper brass, giving his report. His stomach goes hot and tight with worry. The Colonel had said no disciplinary action was necessary, right? He tries to keep his mind off of it by spending time with his troop. Morita found a busted radio and set to working on fixing it, while Jones and Dernier shot insults at each other in both French and English over a game of cards. Dugan alternated between trying to talk Falsworth into wrestling, and writing a letter to his omega girl back home. Eventually, the noise and the laughter becomes too much and Bucky takes off for a long walk, trying desperately not to think about Peggy and Steve. 

∞ 

Steve tries not to let Bucky’s distance get to him. He spends all day detailing the rescue from Hydra, writing report after report, and going over every detail he can remember. He describe the map he’d seen at least five times to different officers. Finally, Colonel Phillips pulls him aside to tell him to pack it up, because he’s heading to London. 

“What about the soldiers?” He asks. 

“I think they could use a night on the town.” Colonel Phillips says with a shrug, waving Steve off. 

Peggy catches him just before he leaves. “So that was Sergeant Barnes. He is quite the looker.” She pulls him to side of the building, away from the hearing of anyone who might walk by. 

Steve blushes and gives an awkward nod. “He’s been distant since I rescued him. I don’t think he likes the way I look now.” Steve frowns. “I’m not exactly the same size I was when he left.” 

“Are you sure you’re not an Alpha?” She asks seriously. 

“What?” 

“It’s just, with all that ego, thinking everything must be about you, I wasn’t sure.” Peggy puts her hands on her hips, pursing her lips. “From what you said in there, the Sergeant has been through a lot. Maybe it has nothing to do with you. Have you asked him?” 

“He’s been avoiding me.” Steve mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I get your point. I’ll ask him tonight.” 

“You’d better.” She nods sternly, pushing him back towards camp. “I put a few months’ worth of suppressants in your bags, make sure you take them!” 

He heads to where he saw Dugan carry Bucky to the night before, stopping outside the open tent flap. Bucky is the first to notice him, jerking around like he smelled Steve coming. Steve clears his throat awkwardly. “I just thought I’d let you boys know we’re heading out to London tonight. So, better pack up.” 

The other men whoop and cheer, but Bucky continues to stare at Steve. Steve motions for Bucky to come out, and waits while Bucky seems to think about it before he acquiesces and slowly makes his way to where Steve leads him. 

“What’s up?” Bucky crosses his arms against chest to keep from reaching out and pulling Steve against him. 

“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay?” Steve shuffles his feet. 

“’course it is. You got me out of that hell hole, what more could I ask for?” His voice is rougher than he means it to be, but he can’t help thinking about the way Steve smiled at Peggy. 

Steve stares at Bucky like he’s grown another head. “Buck.” He says softly, reaching out towards him, but stopping before actually touching him. “Is it what the serum did? I know I’m a lot different than I used to be.” 

“Don’t be an idiot, Steve.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “For such a smart guy, you sure can be stupid. I love you, you stupid punk. I loved you when you were nintety pounds soaking wet, and I love you now that you can benchpress a goddamn tank. Don’t you dare ever think differently.” 

Steve feels his heart swell with love. “Then what is it?” 

Bucky runs a hand roughly through his hair. “Jesus, Steve, I don’t know okay. Maybe it’s the fact you could have died. That serum coulda killed you, and you damned near got yourself killed taking on an entire Nazi facility by yourself.” He turns and starts pacing. “Maybe it’s that you smell so damned good I want to fucking roll in it. Maybe it’s every time I get close to you I want to push you down and mark you up, let everyone know you’re mine.” 

Steve can’t stop himself from throwing himself at Bucky, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close. “I’m not stopping you, Buck.” 

Bucky groans into his neck, filling his lungs with Steve’s scent. He pushes Steve roughly back into a tree, crowding him against it. “You’re an idiot.” He huffs, rubbing his face into Steve’s collarbone. 

“I’m sorry, Buck.” Steve mumbles, gasping sharply when Bucky starts leaving biting kisses along the sensitive skin under his jaw. 

“Should be, stupid punk What would I do without you?” Bucky grumbles, dragging Steve’s mouth to his. He shoves his tongue into Steve’s mouth, mapping the familiar territory. Steve lets him, jerking his hips hard into Bucky’s. “We can’t do this here.” He breathes when he pulls back. 

Steve pants, dropping his head onto Bucky’s shoulder. His insides have the warm tingly feeling that precedes him getting wet. It makes him stiffen, because Bucky will definitely be able to smell that. “I gotta tell you somethin’, Bucky. Shoulda told you a long time ago.” 

Bucky pulls back slightly to look Steve in the eyes, brows furrowed. “What?” His pupils are huge, and he’s breathing heavy. 

“I’m an omega.” Steve averts his eyes at the last second. He doesn’t want to see the betrayal in Bucky’s eyes. 

“But, you said-“ He leans closer, grabbing Steve’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Why would you lie about that?” 

“They said I would never have a heat. It was basically like being a beta.” Steve says desperately. “I didn’t want you to know I was broken.” He says more softly, pulling his chin out of Bucky’s grip. He startles when Bucky steps completely away from him. “Bucky, wait!” 

Bucky holds up a hand, stopping Steve in his place. “How could you think that would matter to me?” 

“I’m sorry.” Steve drops his head. He relaxes when Bucky sighs and crowds against him. “Bucky?” 

“You’re an idiot.” He says sharply. “But you’re my idiot.” He unsnaps Steve’s pants and shoves his hand inside, wrapping his hand around Steve’s flagging erection. “You are mine, right Stevie?” 

Steve shivers at the nickname, going rock hard in seconds. “Yours, Buck. All yours.” 

“Okay, baby.” Bucky whispers into Steve’s ear, pushing him even harder against the tree, using his body to block any view of Steve from the camp. “I believe you. You gotta be quick, though. Next time, I’ll lay you out under me. Get you all ready for me.” He pauses, inhaling sharply when he feels Steve’s slick dripping between his legs. “Oh Stevie.” He croons, rubbing his fingers against Steve’s hole to get them wet. 

Steve whines into Bucky’s shoulder, pushing his ass back against Bucky’s fingers. “Please, Buck.” 

Bucky tuts and takes his fingers away, wrapping them back around Steve’s dick and jerking hard and fast. “We don’t have time for that baby.” He bites roughly at Steve’s neck, causing Steve’s hips to jerk spastically. “C’mon, baby. Just think about when we have some time to ourselves. Gonna flip you onto your belly, let you rub against the bed while I eat you out. Bet you taste so good, baby, all nice and wet for me.” Steve chokes down a moan, biting his lip, and pushing his face into Bucky’s neck. “Then after I make you come from my tongue in your ass, I’ll slip my fingers in, get you all the way ready. I’m gonna knot you baby, next time. Make you mine forever. Fill you up, so everyone will be able to smell it in you.” 

Steve’s orgasm punches out of it, sudden and intense. He shakes against the tree as Bucky wrings the last of it out of him, stroking him until he’s on the painful side of sensitive. “Buck, Bucky.” He gasps, breathing heavy. “S’good. You’re amazin’.” 

Bucky chuckles, pressing a kiss on the top of Steve’s head. “Better get a move on, Captain. You’re gonna need to change your pants before we leave.” He steps back swiftly, adjusting himself in his pants. He’s painfully hard, but there isn’t time to do anything about it now. 

Steve frowns, eyes trained on the outline of Bucky’s erection. “I could take care of that for you.” 

“Nu-uh.” Bucky shakes his head, taking another step back. “We need to get moving. Someone’s gonna be looking for us soon.” 

No sooner are the words out of his mouth before Dugan’s calling out to them. “Corporal’s here to take us to the landing strip, Sergeant!” 

Steve straightens immediately, snapping his pants closed, and adjusting his shirt. Bucky watches him with amused eyes and call back, “We’re on our way.” He turns and strides back to the tent, erection dwindling. Dugan winks at him as he passes, waggling his eyebrows salaciously. 

“Took the liberty of packing your things for you, Sarge.” Jones says, the last one in the tent. 

“What things?” He eyes the bag on his bed, stuffed full, a blue pea coat lying next to it. “This mine?” 

“Courtesy of the US Army, and all you had to do was get captured by the enemy.” Jones claps him on the shoulder as he passes by, nodding at Steve as he shuffles in. 

Bucky shrugs and shoves the coat into the bag, pulling out a pair of pants and tossing them to Steve. “These’ll do for now.” 

Steve blushes and changes, balling up the old pants and tossing them in the corner. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Bucky nods, slinging the bag onto his shoulder, and slapping Steve on the ass when he turns to walk out of the tent, earning a half-hearted glare. He smirks back. “I meant to ask. What’s up with the shield?” 

∞ 

They land in London in the early hours of the morning. The ride was noisy and rough so everyone is exhausted. Bucky and his men are dropped off at the hotel to sleep, while Steve has to immediately put on his dress uniform and report to command to be debriefed. He has to once again repeat his report of the rescue mission to several generals from separate allied forces. It’s long and tedious, with a lot of questions asked that he doesn’t have an answer to. No, he doesn’t know how the new weapons are being powered. No, he’s not aware of what experiments were being performed. No, he doesn’t know how Schmidt got away. 

Finally, Steve is able to get his hands on a map and mark off the buildings he remembers from the map in the Hydra facility. When Colonel Phillips mentions a task force, he jumps at the opportunity, requesting his own men. He heads off to Stark’s lab on a high. 

“I’m here to see Howard Stark.” He says to the pretty female beta reading the paper. 

“He’s busy.” She replies in a bored tone, not looking up. 

“I’ll just wait here then.” 

The girl does look up then, doing a double take when he gives her a smile. “You’re Captain America.” She says slowly, rising out of her chair. “You’ve made a lot of omegas and betas very happy, Captain.” 

Steve shuffles back, crossing his arms defensively. “Well, I don’t, I mean-“ 

“You’re a hero.” She purrs, crowding closer. “It’s practically my sworn duty to show you our appreciation.” She grabs his tie, pulling him closer. 

Steve is trapped against a desk and the woman. He freezes when she kisses him, not wanting to cause a scene by pushing her away. She doesn’t kiss anything like Bucky, and her lips are too soft. Thankfully, they’re interrupted before she can do anything else. 

“Captain!” Peggy calls sharply. “Howard is ready for you.” 

Steve throws himself after Peggy, squirming out from the beta’s grip. “Peggy wait up.” 

“Poor Sergeant Barnes. Does he know you’ve moved on?” She doesn’t slow down, making Steve jog to catch up to her. 

“It’s not what it looked like.” He hisses once he’s caught up. “She kissed me.” 

“I’m sure the Sergeant will find that comforting.” She stops to raise an eyebrow at him. “Or are you trying to make him jealous? I have to say, I wouldn’t have thought you would stoop to that.” 

“Peggy!” 

“No, no. It’s a good plan.” She waves a hand dismissively. “He should probably be there to witness it for it to be effective, though.” She opens the door to Howard’s lab. “A for effort.” 

Steve glares and stomps past her into the safety of Howard’s lab. He spends over an hour picking out weapons for his team and himself. He’s especially fond of the new shield, even if Bucky will think it’s stupid. He’s grown attached to having one. He even gets to give Howard some design ideas for his suit. All in all it’s a productive day. 

The hotel is empty when he makes it back after dinner. There’s a note taped to the front of his door that says, _out drinking! Beers on you_. He rolls his eyes and turns around, heading out of the hotel. There’s a pub less than a block away he’d bet money they’re at. Most of the guys are at their own table laughing loudly and drinking heavily. Bucky isn’t with them, but Steve spots him at the bar, shoots him a smile. 

“Beers on me, huh?” He asks as he drags up a seat. 

“Sarge said you wouldn’t mind.” Dugan burps loudly, pounding his chest. “Who are we to refuse?” 

“I bet he did.” Steve takes the beer Jones is offering him with a grin. “You boys think you might want to see a little more action before we ship you home?” 

The guys trade heavy glances. Steve waits them out, he knows he’s asking a lot from them. Falsworth is the first to speak up. 

“I’m not quite finished paying Hydra back.” He says airily. “Could do with a little more revenge. For queen and country, of course.” 

“Of course.” Morita agrees. “I’m not going back til the war’s over, and my parents are out of that camp. You can count me in.” He clinks his glass with Steve’s. 

“Someone’s gotta watch Sarge’s back while he’s busy watching yours.” Dugan adds with a grin. “But I’ll need a few more drinks first, to soften me up to the idea.” 

Dernier says something in rapid French to Jones who laughs and responds in kind before grinning at Steve. He motions between himself and Dernier. “We’re in.” 

“Well, then. Drinks are definitely on me.” Steve stands as the men holler and cheer. He walks away with a warm feeling settling in his chest. “That went better than expected.” He says as he settles on a bar stool next to Bucky. 

“You can’t have thought they’d turn you down.” Bucky slides him a beer. “You’re Captain America.” He gives a mocking salute. 

Steve ignores the blush staining his cheeks. “What about you? You ready to follow Captain America back into battle?” 

“Nah.” Bucky twirls the glass in front of him, not looking Steve in the eyes. Steve’s heart clenches painfully. “That skinny guy from Brooklyn. I’ll follow him.” 

Steve breathes out heavily in relief. “Jerk.” He knocks his shoulder into Bucky’s. 

“Punk.” Bucky grins playfully. He turns when the noise in the pub suddenly falls away. Steve turns with him, then stares in awe as Peggy approaches, looking beautiful as ever. 

Every eye in the room is trained on Peggy as she approaches Steve. Steve can feel Bucky go tense and then mock relaxed as he spots her. Peggy keeps her eyes on Steve, and Steve can see the playfulness lurking in them. 

“Evening, Captain.” She stops in front of him. “Nice night for a dance.” 

“Is it?” Steve replies. “I guess it is if you have the right partner.” Bucky is standing rigidly next to him. Steve can practically feel the tension radiating from him. 

“Yes, the right partner is important.” Peggy purrs back, batting her lashes at him. 

Steve knows she’s doing this to make Bucky jealous, probably thinks she’s helping Steve out, and the little voice inside him that says this is a bad idea is squashed by the thrill of it. Before Steve can say anything, Bucky interjects. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” He bares his teeth at her in a mockery of a smile. 

Peggy looks Bucky over calmly. “Another time perhaps.” She says to Steve, giving Bucky a polite smile. Steve watches as she turns around and starts walking away. Bucky turns back to the bar and downs the rest of his glass. Steve almost misses Peggy winking at him over her shoulder. 

“Let’s get outta here. The boys will be here till they’re kicked out.” Bucky says right into Steve’s ear. “We could have the place to ourselves. Gotta make good on my promise.” 

Steve shivers and hastily downs his own glass, before following in Bucky’s wake out of the pub and down the street to the hotel. They keep a respectful distance between themselves as they walk. It isn’t until Steve’s unlocked his hotel room door and pushed it open, that Bucky makes him move. 

Bucky pushes Steve inside, causing him to stumble, and slams the door closed, locking it behind him. He crowds Steve against the nearest wall, crushing their mouths together. He doesn’t waste anytime opening Steve’s mouth with his tongue, dominating the kiss. Steve grips his shoulders tightly as he starts unbuttoning Steve’s shirt. He undoes Steve’s tie and throws it aside, pushing Steve back once his shirt is fully unbuttoned. “Take it off.” He orders, voice husky with lust. 

He starts stripping himself as Steve scrambles to obey, almost ripping his shirt in his haste to pull it off. “Undershirt too.” He adds, kicking off his shoes. He waits in just his pants for Steve to finish, getting a hand in his belt and pulling Steve forward before Steve can start on his pants. “Not yet.” 

Steve relaxes in Bucky’s grip, throws his arms around Bucky’s neck, head titled back to give Bucky better access. “Buck.” He breathes out. 

“Taste as good as you smell, baby.” Bucky sucks a mark into the juncture of Steve’s neck where it meets his collarbone. He pivots, pushing Steve down onto the bed, and crawling over him quickly. “Bet you taste even better a little lower.” He grins, lowering his head to close his mouth around one of Steve’s nipples, pinching the other with one hand. 

Steve jackknifes under him, biting his lip hard to avoid crying out. 

“Nobody’s around baby.” Bucky murmurs, switching to the other nipple. “You don’t have to hurt yourself tryin’ to keep quiet. “ 

Steve shakes his head, gripping the back of Bucky’s head with one hand, the other flung over his face. 

“That’s okay, Stevie.” Bucky sits back, unsnapping Steve’s pants, dragging them and his underwear down his legs. “You won’t be able to keep quiet for long.” He throws the pants off the bed, leaving Steve completely naked under him. “Look at this body, baby.” He runs a hand down Steve’s abs, mapping the contours of his new body. “The serum really did make everything bigger.” He smirks, stroking Steve’s cock slowly. 

Its difficult for Steve to lay still while Bucky inspects his body. He’s feeling a weird mixture of embarrassment and pleasure, lying completely at Bucky’s mercy. “Bucky.” He whines, jerking his hips up, Bucky’s teasing grip not nearly enough. 

“Patience is a virtue, Stevie.” He straddles Steve’s thighs to keep him pinned down. “You can be patient for me, can’t you?” 

“Been patient, Buck.” Steve shifts restlessly under Bucky. “Wanted you for years before I ever said anything.” 

Bucky’s eyes soften. “Yeah, you did.” He gets off Steve’s legs, spreading them, and lying in between them. “I guess you’ve been patient enough.” He keeps both arms pressed tight to Steve’s hips, and takes him as far back into his mouth as he can. He wants to make Steve come like this before he flips him over. Orgasms make Steve all loose limbed and pliable, and Bucky wants him to be fully relaxed when he starts in on Steve’s ass. He sucks hard and fast, bobbing his head and humming occasionally the way he knows drives Steve crazy. 

Steve shoves a pillow over his face to muffle the moans pouring out of his throat. Bucky’s mouth is tight and hot, and it’s been so long since they’ve done this. He’s not going to last long, but he thinks that’s the point. Bucky’s blowing him like it’s his personal mission to suck Steve’s brains out through his cock. It takes him less than three minutes to come. 

He chokes out Bucky’s name as he comes down, Bucky sucking him through it until he’s sensitive. He’s alarmed to find that he only goes half hard. 

“Well damn, Steve, if that ain’t a perk of the serum I don’t know what it.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Good thing I’m not finished with you yet. Turn over baby.” 

Steve’s limbs feel all heavy and warm as he turns over. The sheets are wet with slick under him, and he can feel it sliding down his legs. He’s embarrassed when Bucky lets out a low whistle. 

“Oh, Stevie.” He spreads Steve’s ass cheeks, getting a better look at his leaking hole. “Look how wet for me you are, baby.” He leans closer. “I bet you can get wetter.” He says, and Steve can hear the desire in his voice. 

Steve screams when Bucky licks at his hole, burying his face quickly in the pillow. “Bucky!” 

“Mmm, baby. Knew you’d taste this good.” He mumbles, face buried in Steve’s ass. He licks Steve open nice and slow, swirling his tongue around the rim until it relaxes and he can shove his tongue inside. He pulls back to nibble lightly on the rim, feeling Steve shudder under him. “So good, baby. Such a good omega.” 

Steve is rock hard and leaking. He thrusts down into the bed, trying to get some friction on his aching dick. He whines when Bucky grabs his hips in an iron hold, keeping him from moving. “Buck, please.” 

“Don’t be greedy, Steve. I already made you come once. You have to wait for the second one.” He slaps Steve’s ass with one hand, admires the red spreading across it, as Steve moans. “Be good for me, Stevie. My good omega.” He sits back on his heels, holding Steve’s cheeks apart with one hand, while the other runs through Steve’s slick, coating it. He pushes one slick finger in Steve’s hole, willing himself not to come as he feels how hot and tight it is. He thrusts carefully, Steve’s moans encouraging him. He spends a few minutes just working one finger in and out of Steve. This is a first for both of them, and he’ll be damned if he rushes it. 

When Steve is using his enhanced strength to push himself down on Bucky’s finger, he adds a second, giving Steve a few seconds to adjust. He twists them curiously, once Steve has nodded his okay. He thrusts slowly, searching for the place inside Steve that will light him up. Steve’s whole body leaves the bed when he finds it. He chuckles lowly and rubs it firmly causing Steve to tense around his fingers. 

Steve lets out a high pitched moan, and Bucky realizes he just came. “Feel good, baby?” 

“Uhuh.” Steve slurs, body relaxing as his orgasm ends. 

“Gonna make you feel so damned good, Stevie.” Bucky backs off Steve’s prostate, instead focuses on scissoring his fingers, and stretching Steve open. Steve is so open and relaxed, but his dick still isn’t soft, so Bucky figures he can continue, and slides in a third finger. Steve barely reacts, just spreads his legs wider, and groans. “Doin so good for me, Stevie.” 

Steve nods, pushing back on Bucky’s hand. “S’good.” 

“That’s right baby. You’re so good, a good omega, all wet and open for your alpha.” Bucky leans over Steve’s back to kiss Steve’s neck, thrusting his fingers all the while. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

“Yours.” Steve agrees, turning his face to kiss Bucky sloppily. “M’ready, Buck.” 

Bucky leans back, holds Steve’s cheeks open so he can watch his fingers thrust in and out of Steve’s hole, slick leaking out every time he pulls his fingers back. “One more baby. Take one more for me, and then I’ll fuck you.” He wedges in his pinky finger. 

Steve freezes from the pressure, more than he expected. It takes him a minute to adjust, and then he thrusts back experimentally, the pressure turning to pleasure. Bucky wastes no time in searching out prostate and dragging his fingers against it. Steve’s scream catches in his throat. He bends his knee and brings it up towards his chest, hands gripping the sheets, his body humming with pleasure. “I’m ready. I’m so ready.” He pants. “Buck, please.” 

“Okay, baby.” Bucky runs a hand soothingly down Steve’s back. “Alright, Stevie. I gotcha, I’m gonna take care of you.” 

“Wanna see your face.” Steve tries to twist onto his back. 

“It’ll be easier like this, baby. It’ll take a while for my knot to go down, and you’ll be uncomfortable if we’re face to face.” Bucky says gently. 

“Don’t care.” Steve argues, still trying to twist under Bucky’s weight. 

Bucky sighs and gives in. He’d do anything for Steve. “Okay, baby.” He helps Steve turn over, hooks one of Steve’s knees over his shoulder, and wraps the other around his waist. “You ready?” He asks, lining his cock up with Steve’s hole. 

Steve nods, lip caught between his teeth as he concentrates on relaxing. “I’m ready.” 

Bucky has to close his eyes as he pushes in. It’s hot and tight, and so, so wet. It’s as good as everyone says it’ll be, only better because it’s Steve he’s doing this with. It’s a struggle not to come in the first five seconds, as Steve’s hole grips him tightly. After a minute he’s able to open his eyes and look at Steve who looks like it’s Christmas, and his birthday, and every other holiday all rolled into one. “Still okay?” 

“Buck.” Steve groans. It’s a lot of pressure, but not exactly painful. The pleasure visible on Bucky’s face, makes what little pain there is insignificant. “You can move.” 

Bucky takes him at his word, giving a couple of experimental thrusts to find a good rhythm. He notices Steve’s erection is flagging a little, so he wraps his hand around it and strokes it, thrusting faster. “You’re perfect, Steve.” He moans. He shifts his hips, looking for Steve’s sweet spot, he wants Steve to feel as good as he’s feeling. Steve’s erection comes roaring back to full hardness, telling him he’s found the right spot. 

“Perfect, Bucky.” Steve moans back, trying to keep his eyes open and on Bucky. “So good.” 

“Gonna knot you Stevie. You’re gonna come one more time for me, and then I’m gonna knot you, fill you up like I know you want.” Bucky jerks Steve’s cock faster, twisting his wrist at the top, and thrusting harder. His knot is starting to swell, but he wants Steve to come again before he finishes. “Can you do that for me, baby? Come from my cock in your ass and my hand on your dick? Show me how much you like it.” 

Steve’s rolling his head back and forth on the sheets mindlessly. The pleasure rushing through his body is all consuming, he’s right on the edge, Bucky’s words driving him closer and closer. 

“Come for your alpha, Stevie.” 

“Alpha!” Steve screams, whole body tightening as he comes. He comes so hard that some of it lands on his neck. He thinks he might black out for a second or two. He comes down from his orgasm, to feel Bucky all the way inside him, knot swelling. 

“Steve, so perfect, mine, my omega, my Stevie.” Bucky groans and bites down on Steve’s neck, filling Steve up like he promised he would. It feels like his orgasm goes on forever, as he slumps on Steve’s chest, Steve running a hand through his hair soothingly. When he’s regained most of his faculties, he uses his remaining strength to flip them over so Steve can rest on his chest while his knot goes down. 

“That was amazing.” Steve says into his neck.” 

“Yeah, it was.” He wraps an arm tightly around Steve. “Now you can tell Carter to back off.” 

“I think she was trying to help me by making you jealous.” 

“Why would she do something like that?” Bucky furrows his eyebrows, trying to get a look at Steve’s face, but he angle is too awkward. 

“Well she may have seen this beta lady kiss me and thought that’s what I was doing.” Steve keeps his face tucked where it is, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “I didn’t want her to. Kiss me, I mean. The beta girl.” 

Bucky chuckles, the vibration traveling into Steve’s chest. “Maybe you need something to keep other people off of you. Let them know you’re taken. I bet Carter would be willing to help out with that, her being such a helpful person and all.” 

“You wouldn’t care if people thought Peggy and I were together?” Steve raises his head to look at Bucky. 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what other people think about anything. I’m fine with anything that keeps other people away from you.” He pauses, purses his lips. “Besides, you can’t tell me you would mind. I know Peggy Carter is just your type.” He smirks when Steve blushes. “You had a crush on her, didn’t you?” 

“No, you jerk.” Steve stutters, glaring at him, but doesn’t resist when Bucky pulls him back down to kiss him. 

“You ready for round two?” Bucky rolls them back over, eyeing Steve’s cock which is starting to fill again. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Steve forgets all about that conversation until they’re about to ship out for their first mission and Bucky tosses him something as he strolls up. Steve flips it open to find it’s a compass with Peggy’s picture taped inside. “What?” He asks intelligently. 

Bucky smirks. “She thought it was funny. Told me ‘anything to help a fellow Alpha out’.” 

Steve punches him hard in the shoulder, but keeps the compass. He hopes Peggy will get a kick out of it. 

∞ 

They blow up the first hydra base on the list, Steve crashing out of the exploding warehouse on his new Stark motorcycle. Bucky pulls Steve aside after they’ve made camp, crushing him against a tree, and blows him until Steve comes down his throat, muffling his moans with his own hand, tree bark biting into his ass. Steve is still recovering from his mid blowing orgasm when Bucky turns him around. He pushes his ass out, thinking Bucky’s about to fuck him, but is startled when Bucky simply pushes him harder against the tree, sliding his dick between Steve’s thighs. He thrusts forward, one hand wrapped tight around his knot, pulling back when he’s about to come, shooting over Steve’s ass. Bucky chuckles weakly into Steve’s neck. “Who knew war would be this fuckin sexy?” 

The men get used to Steve and Bucky disappearing after every successful mission, coming back happy and relaxed. They all know Steve and Bucky are fucking, have seen the red marks Bucky is constantly re-making on Steve’s neck. They’re all careful to leave space next to Steve’s bedroll for Bucky, are surprisingly polite when they have to wake one of them up for guard rotation, look away respectfully when they untangle themselves from each other every morning. 

Bucky isn’t willing to risk knotting Steve when they’re out in enemy territory, can’t afford to make them completely defenseless. There isn’t any privacy, and he doesn’t want anyone else to see Steve the way he does, needy and horny, begging for Bucky to fill him up. He trusts their men with his life, and more importantly, with Steve’s life, but there are some things he’d like to keep between just him and Steve. 

They track down every base on Steve’s map, wiping them off of the face of the Earth. Dernier is a big fan of exploding every possible thing he can. Bucky thinks he’s probably a little different in the head, the way he watches the fire dance in the wind with a look of pure glee on his face. Steve doesn’t think anything of it, explosions are practical for what they’re doing, getting rid of every trace of Hydra. Dernier tells jokes in French to Jones, likes to watch Jones attempt to explain them in English. He spends several nights teaching them curse words in French, which they all use as frequently as their English counterparts. He mentions once, briefly, about the son he's never met and never will, killed in the early days of the war, and the brother he lost when Hydra captured him. 

Morita carries the radio he fixed with him everywhere. Calls it his lucky radio, and turns it up as loud as he dares when Steve and Bucky head out of camp together. He sings his favorite songs while they’re trekking through the woods, hums them to himself at night when it’s his turn to be on guard. He tells them about the song his mother used to sing to him before bed every night, words he no longer remembers in a language he only partially speaks. He never talks about the internment camps, or the beta he fell in love with currently being kept in one. Instead he tweaks the radio some more, trying to obtain best possible sound quality, and sings along to every song he knows. 

Jones spends most of his time with Dernier. He tells Bucky it’s because he feels like a kindred spirit, and him speaking French is like a taste of home for Dernier. He’s happy to tell anyone who will listen about the omega he fell in love with and who fell in love with him back in Georgia. Pretty as a peach, he’ll say, with hair soft as silk. A nurse at the county hospital, she wouldn’t marry a soldier, didn’t want to be another widower, but she promised she’d wait for him. “Sounds like someone worth waiting for.” Steve told him. 

Dum-Dum pleads with Steve to requisition more alcohol after every mission. “They won’t say no to Captain America. Don’t you want us to celebrate our victory?” He’ll ask, and Bucky will pull out the bottle of whiskey he’d kept hidden for just this purpose and hand it over. “You’re the best, Sarge.” He’ll salute Bucky and pull out a deck of cards worn thin from over-use and corral the team into a game of Texas Hold’em. He pokes fun at Falsworth’s accent, and lets Falsworth make fun of his. He joins in on all of Morita’s more inappropriate songs, and happily claps Dernier on the back after something explodes. He spends hours arguing with Jones about the best southern food, never fails to wink at Steve when he comes sneaking back into camp from a romp with Bucky, and is even more insistent than Steve that he check Bucky over for injuries after a mission. 

Falsworth rolls his eyes at everything, pretends to be on his high horse, above silly things like poker and inappropriate jokes. He also always volunteers for the middle guard shift, the toughest one to have, and makes breakfast on days they have a fire and some time on their hands. His letters are written to his mother back in England, and always ask about his brother who also serves. He goes quiet sometimes at night when they start to talk about loved ones, twirls the ring hanging from his necklace between his fingers, and gets a faraway look in his eye. Bucky manages to get up the nerve to ask one night when Steve’s taken the first shift on rotation and he’s bored and lonely. “America was not the only country that was bombed.” Falsworth shrugged his shoulders. “You would have liked her I think.” 

Bucky is proud to have each and every man on their team at his back, at Steve’s back. He tries not to think about it, but he knows if something were to happen to him, at least Steve wouldn’t be alone. He pushes the thought aside as he unrolls his bed roll, tucks it next to Steve’s. He’s waiting for Steve to finish giving the news they just managed to blow the second to last Hydra facility. It was significantly more difficult than the others, with more men and more advanced weapons. He’s riding the high of having survived unscathed and is biding his time until he can pull Steve out into the freshly fallen snow and reaffirm for himself that Steve is whole. 

“We’ve got new orders.” Is the first thing out of Steve’s mouth. Morita leaves the radio aside, Dugan puts down the bottle he’s drinking out of, and Jones and Dernier cut their conversation short. 

“What orders?” Bucky asks, moving closer to Steve. 

“Command got intel that Zola is going to be on a train.” Steve stares at Bucky when he says Zola’s name, he knows Bucky still has nightmares about his time at the mercy of Zola’s hands. “We’re going to capture him.” He takes a moment to glance at every one. “We move out in the morning.” 

Bucky pulls Steve towards the tree line surrounding the clearing they’re camping in. He grins as Morita suddenly turns up the music. “We better take advantage of the moment while we can.” 

Steve laughs, going easily down into the snow when Bucky motions for him to. “Gotta keep me on my game.” 

“Damn right.” Bucky nuzzles Steve’s neck, licking at the goosebumps rising on his skin. “You been taking your suppressants?” 

Steve huffs. “’course, Buck.” 

“Mmhmm. Just makin’ sure. You smell so good.” Bucky kisses Steve sweetly. “Wish we had more time. Wanna knot you again.” 

“Do it, Buck. The guys are watching our backs.” Steve arches up under Bucky. “Want you to.” 

“Can’t always get what we want, Stevie.” Bucky unzips Steve’s pants, sliding them down his thighs. 

Steve hisses when his bare ass hits the snowy ground. “It’s cold.” 

“Well yeah, baby, it’s snow.” Steve glares at Bucky, so Bucky strips off his coat and lays it on the ground. “Lay on that.” 

Steve scoots onto the coat, and pulls Bucky back on top of him, kicking his pants as far down as he can without taking off his boots. “C’mon, Buck.” 

“Fine, fine. You win.” Bucky slips a hand down to run around Steve’s wet entrance, pushing two fingers inside. 

Steve groans and thrusts down onto Bucky’s fingers. He’s learned he likes it a little quick and rough, which is good, because that’s all they have time for. He reaches down to jerk his own dick, but Bucky pushes his hand away. 

“You come from my hand or not at all.” He growls, replacing Steve’s hand with his own and adding a third finger. He thrusts relentlessly with his fingers, nailing Steve’s prostate with every stroke. He tightens his grip around Steve’s dick, twisting just the way Steve likes it. It only takes a few more strokes for Steve to come, back bowing, ass clenched tight around Bucky’s fingers. 

As soon as Steve has stopped shaking, and his muscles has relaxed, Bucky pushes in, bottoming out on the first thrust. “You okay, baby?” 

“Perfect. So perfect.” Steve groans, still a little sensitive. He pulls Bucky’s head down so he can kiss him, spreading his legs as far as he can with his pants trapping his ankles. His cock goes from half-mast to rock hard again as Bucky drills his prostate. 

“God, Stevie, feel so good.” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s lips. “All mine.” 

“Yeah, Buck, yours.” Steve feels his orgasm building. Bucky jerks him faster, pushing his knot inside, creating perfect constant pressure against Steve’s prostate. “Bucky!” He yells and comes for the second time. 

Steve’s muscles tightening around him sends Bucky over the edge into his own orgasm. He shakes through it, hips twitching as Steve’s hole flutters around him. He drops his weight down onto Steve, a perk of the serum he’s very fond of. “Shit it’s cold.” 

Steve laughs. “This was your idea!” 

“Yeah, but that was when I was wearing a jacket.” He mumbles, kissing Steve’s neck. He’ll never get tired of Steve’s scent, loves to rub his face in it, breath it in. 

Steve hums, scrubbing a hand through Bucky’s hair. “Don’t fall asleep.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Bucky replies, eyes half closed. 

Bucky falls asleep, but so does Steve. They both wake up when Bucky’s knot goes down and his cock slips out of Steve. He waits while Steve grabs some snow and uses it to clean himself up, helps him straighten his pants, and pulls him into his side when they walk back to camp, Bucky’s wet jacket slung over Steve’s shoulder. Dugan winks and offers to take first watch, which Bucky whole heartedly appreciates. He pulls Steve’s back against his chest, bed rolls mashed together, and falls asleep within seconds, hand over Steve’s heart. 

Dernier wakes them up at first light to get a move on as Falsworth banks the fire. Dugan, Jones, and Morita are already packed and ready to move out. It takes Steve and Bucky less than a minute to get ready themselves, old hats at leaving in a hurry. They have to hike half way up a mountain about two miles from where they’ve been camping to get in position. It’s a long march with packs fully loaded down, but they’ve had worse. How they’re supposed to get on the train actually upsets Bucky more. 

“Is this payback for that time I made you ride the cyclone at Coney Island and you threw up?” 

Steve gives Bucky an unimpressed look, but Bucky knows he’s spot on. “Would I do that?” 

Steve later remembers how free he’d felt there in that moment, Bucky by his side laughing with him. The train is mostly a blur. They get on it without a problem, Jones staying on top to make his way to the front. He remembers the door closing between him and Bucky, the panic he refused to let surface. He remembers tossing Bucky his gun, knocking the hydra agent down. He remembers Bucky picking up the shield, the side of the train flying open, begging Bucky to take his hand. He remembers Bucky falling. His scream plays in Steve’s head non-stop. He doesn’t know what happened after that. He thinks maybe Morita called it in. He thinks they might have taken a plane back to London. He’s only absolutely sure of two things. 1. He can’t get drunk. and 2. Bucky is gone. 

Peggy finds him in the bombed out remains of the pub he’d once flirted with Bucky in. He’s on his fifth bottle of some kind of alcohol, he didn’t bother to check what kind. He keeps drinking hoping if he just drinks enough, he’ll be able to forget. He doesn’t look at her until she’s pulled over a chair and is sitting in front of him. “I can’t get drunk.” He tells her. 

“Erskine thought that might happen.” She looks at the empty bottles scattered next to him. “I see it’s not for lack of trying though.” 

Steve laughs wetly, wipes his eyes. “He liked you, you know. Teased me about you, said you were just my type.” 

“He was a good man.” Peggy reaches out and takes Steve hand. 

“How am I supposed to go on without him, Peggy?” Steve shakes his head, tears building up in his eyes. “I feel like I can’t breathe. Like he took all the air with him when he fell. Nobody ever said it would hurt this bad.” 

Peggy doesn’t say anything, just grips his hand tighter. 

“It shouldn’t have happened. He shouldn’t have been there.” 

“Allow him the dignity of his choice. He would have followed you anywhere. He wanted to be there, with you, on that train.” Peggy says softly but sternly. “You have to learn to live with that.” 

“I don’t know if I can.” Steve takes his hand away to rub the tears from his face. 

“Then find something else to live for.” Peggy suggests. 

Steve slowly lowers his hands. “I’m going to take down Hydra. Wipe it from the face of the Earth.” 

Peggy nods like she expected nothing less. 

Eventually, Peggy drags him out of the bar and puts him to bed. Steve lies in bed but doesn’t sleep, he’s not sure if he’ll ever sleep again. The next day at the planning meeting with the rest of the Commandos, Howard, Colonel Phillips, and Peggy he details his plan. He leaves no room for argument, in fact, he actually leaves before anyone can attempt to argue with him. He can’t face the Commandos and their sympathy. He feels like a terrible leader, avoiding his men the way he is, especially because he knows they lost someone too, but it’s too painful. He looks at them and sees Bucky. He sees Bucky beating Dugan at poker, grinning smugly. He sees Bucky singing along to whatever song Morita has decided to sing, hears him whistling the tune in his head. He looks at Jones and thinks of Bucky teaching him the art of lifting, something he picked up back in Brooklyn when he would steal to help keep Steve fed. He looks at them and sees the spaces Bucky used to fill, the way he held the team together. It’s the most painful thing he's ever experienced. 

He wakes up the day of the attack after less than an hour’s sleep. He picks up the black and white picture of Bucky Peggy had thoughtfully left in his room and tucks it into his uniform. He’s not planning on dying, but he isn’t exactly planning on surviving either. There is no living without Bucky, so survival is all it would be. It’s easy to put all his fury and grief into the siege on Hydra. He zones out from the moment he leaves his hotel room until he’s dropped off a few miles away from Hydra's base, ignoring the few people who attempt to talk to him. He focuses on taking out as many guards as he can before he lets himself be captured, grief and anger humming in his veins. 

The way Red Skull looks at him makes Steve desperate to tear his head from his body. Steve lets himself be hit, nothing can hurt as bad as losing Bucky. He almost laughs when Red Skull asks him what is so special about him. The only thing special about him fell off a train in the Alps. He tells Red Skull the truth. “Nothing. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.” It’s comical how alarmed and surprised Schmidt is as his team comes crashing through his obnoxiously huge windows. He uses the hydra agents as a shield until Falsworth throws him his own, and then he takes off after Schmidt. 

He chases Schmidt through the base, thankful for Peggy once again when she shoots out the flamethrower backpack. His mind is numb when he tries to run after the plane carrying Red Skull away, he thinks desperately, _It can’t end like this_. Then Colonel Phillips and Peggy show up in Schmidt’s car and speed off after the plane. Peggy grabs his arm just before he’s about to jump. She has a death grip on him, and she’s looking at him like she knows he’s hoping he doesn’t come back. He kisses her on impulse. In a different world he could have loved her. He does love her, really, just not the way he loves Bucky. He thinks she gets in when he pulls back and jumps. 

He gets stabbed with a knife, well aware of the irony. If he survives he’ll have a long talk with Howard about just how likely it is to be stabbed by an enemy with a pocket knife. He thinks he's knocked them all out when he realizes he has to jump on the bomb dropping out of the plane, Hydra thug on his back. The cyclone at Coney Island has nothing on hanging onto the top of a flying bomb while fighting. He crashes the bomb back into the plane with a sense of pride. He still has a chance to keep anyone else from being hurt. 

Schmidt is waiting for him at the front of the plane, the damn tesseract glowing between them. Fighting Schmidt isn’t like fighting anyone else. He’s just as strong as Steve, and just as sure of his course of action. He’s a man who will go down fighting, but so is Steve. The plane turns as it falls after the flight panel is cracked, sending Steve and Schmidt flying. Steve’s honestly not sure if he can beat Schmidt, but then Schmidt makes his final mistake and touches the tesseract. 

Steve doesn’t have time to think about the fact Schmidt just fucking evaporated, before he grabs the control, steadying the plane, and changing the frequency to radio in. “Hello? Can anyone hear me?” 

He hears Morita’s voice through the static before his voice is replaced with Peggy’s. “Steve. I’m here.” 

“This thing is on a crash course. I think I’m going to have to put her in the water.” Steve says, feeling a sense of calm come over him. 

“Give me your coordinates, we’ll send someone out to get you.” Her voice sounds strained. 

“There isn’t time, Peggy.” 

“Steve, please, don’t do this.” Peggy’s voice breaks. 

“You told me to find something else to live for.” Steve takes out his compass and his picture of Bucky, puts them up where he can see them, and tilts the steering control down. “I did what I said I would. It’s better this way.” 

“You can find something else, Steve, please.” 

Steve can hear the tears in her voice. He feels terrible that she’s hearing his last words, will be stuck with this memory. “You’ll always be my best gal, Peggy.” 

“Steve-“ Her voice cuts off as the plane slams into the ice. He can finally sleep. 

∞ 

He wakes up seventy years in the future with an ache buried so deep in his chest he thinks he’s dying all over again. He can still feel the shock of the impact into the ice, the cold burrowing its way into his chest, his veins. The room they have him in has stale air circulating through it, and an old baseball game playing on the radio. The woman is dressed all wrong, a cheap imitation of the way Peggy used to look. He runs. They catch up to him, but he’s stopped trying to get away. What’s the point? He’s lost in this city they tell him he used to know like the back of his hand. The man, _Fury_ , escorts him back to S.H.I.E.L.D, whatever that is. They tell him they won the war, largely in part to his contribution, but it doesn’t matter. He’s alive and Bucky’s not.


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's Point of View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking so long to update, I'm just really unhappy with how what was supposed to be the last chapter is turning out. I decided to add this, because I wanted to show what Bucky is going through, and also in the hopes it would motivate me to finish the final chapter. I would love if anyone wanted to brain storm with me/ let me whine about what's going wrong with the final chapter. Come find me on tumblr!

Bucky remembers screaming, his own or someone else’s he’s not sure. He remembers the cold air rushing past him, his stomach rushing up into his throat, as he fell for what seemed like forever. He doesn’t remember the impact. 

He wakes up, body throbbing in pain, disoriented, and with one thought. _Steve_. He passes out. 

He wakes up to the sound of voices. HE doesn’t know what they’re saying, but he’s pretty sure it’s not English. Everything seems far away and distant, the only thing he feels clearly is pain. There’s a crunching sound, and a sudden sharp, overwhelming pain, and then he’s being dragged from his spot in the melting snow. He passes out. 

He thinks maybe he wakes up once or twice before waking up in the lab. He remembers flashes of snow, the dark coats of the men dragging or carrying him, a burning pain so strong it makes vomit rise in his throat. The men don’t stop when he throws up on himself, don’t clean him up, or give him water, they march on like it never happened. 

The lab is cold, but not as cold as the snow. He wakes up naked and shivering, in a room with machines and men in lab coats, lying on a silver gurney. He tries to say something, must make some type of noise, because one of the men in a lab coat turns around and looks at him with wide eyes. He barks an order in some language, _Russian?_ , and then Bucky feels a sharp pinch in the crook of his arm, sending him back to sleep. 

The next time he wakes, he’s dragged out of unconsciousness by the scorching pain radiating from his arm. He wakes with a scream, vomiting before he’s even opened his eyes. He struggles upward, tries to jerk away from the source of the pain, but he’s restrained. There’s a drilling sound, but Bucky can’t bring himself to look at the source. Men shout back and forth over his body, ignoring the fact he’s clearly awake. The pain gets worse, something he didn’t think could happen. He doesn’t even have time to turn his head before he vomits again. He begs his brain to shut down, anything to escape the pain. He hears a crack, sending a shockwave of pain so intense he bites through his tongue, blood pooling in his mouth. He slips unconscious. 

He wakes up and thinks he’s died and gone to hell, because Zola is fucking staring at him, just like he did in that hell hole Steve rescued him from. He’s not dreaming, because he can feel the pain racking his body. He knows it’s not hell because not even Satan would work with Armin Zola. Zola peers at him through his spectacles, and Bucky tries to muster enough spit in his dry mouth to launch some at Zola’s face. “Sergeant Barnes, so nice of you to join us.” 

Bucky hates the sound of Zola’s voice. He’s heard it in his nightmares since Steve rescued him, sometimes waking with Zola’s sigh of disappointment ringing in his head, expecting another shock of electricity. He flips Zola the bird. 

“I must admit I was happy to see that our time together was well spent. You survived the fall.” Zola pats his bandaged shoulder. “It’s a pity your Captain is lost to us. It would have been nice to have a matching set.” 

Bucky hears alarms blare as his heart clenches painfully in his chest. _It’s a trick_ He thinks, _Steve isn’t dead_. “No.” He says weakly. 

“Don’t worry, Sergeant. You will not remember for long.” Zola nods to some of the men standing off to the side. “The procedure has already started.” 

Bucky’s back arches off the table when he feels a familiar surge of electrical current at the same time his shoulders are strapped down, his bandages unwound. He doesn’t see them start cutting into his shoulder. 

He slips in and out of consciousness while the doctors mess with his shoulder, then his ribs, then his spine. The pain is indescribable. He retreats as far as he can in his mind when he’s awake. It doesn’t completely drown out the pain, or the sound of the machines being used on his body, or the voices of the scientists, but at least in his mind he can look at Steve’s face and pretend to be back in Brooklyn, Steve wrapped safely in his arms. 

He wakes up with a new arm and spotty memories. He thinks he recognizes the doctor asking him questions he doesn’t have the answers to. Bucky doesn’t remember where he was born, or the name of his mother. He remembers Steve Rogers, and James Buchanan Barnes 32557038. After a few minutes of staring he is able to place the doctor as _Zola_. Zola isn’t happy. They wipe him again. 

The new arm is heavy, tugging painfully on his healing ribs and spine when they make him get up and move around. He’s hooked up to an IV giving him all the nutrients he needs, but they don’t want him to lose too much muscle mass. They test him healing abilities, cutting into his skin to see how quickly he stops bleeding, how fast the skin knits itself back together. They tell him Steve is dead, but he refuses to believe. He knows he’d feel it if Steve were gone. He doesn’t remember where he was living before the war, _did he share an apartment with Steve?_ He remembers sharing a cot with Steve, _was he always so small?_ They ask him questions about the allies, sometimes. Does he know the name of the generals? Does he know where their strongholds are located? He grins and tells them “James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038.” 

He tries to pull the IV out and they break all his fingers, strap his metal arm down, and beat him until he’s coughing blood. They wipe him again. They spray him down with ice cold water when he vomits on himself. It feels like he’s been in Zola’s clutches forever. They tell him Steve is dead, and he breaks the table they have him strapped down on. Zola shakes him head and orders him to be “put on ice”. Bucky’s picked up enough Russian to know it’s called cryofreeze. 

He wakes up in a different decade. He doesn’t know that at first, of course. But the people are dressed in a completely different fashion, and the machines they hook him up to are slightly upgraded. At least he thinks they are. Sometimes he doesn’t know if he’s remembering something real, or if he made it up in his head. The new chair they use to wipe him is much stronger. He comes out of it having nearly bitten clean through his tongue, two his teeth cracked. He remembers James Barnes and the name Steve. He doesn’t know his serial number, or how he lost his arm, but he knows he has a mate out there somewhere and his name is Steve. He can’t picture him, two very different bodies coming to mind, but he knows he’s real. 

He’s given more injections before they test his healing, cutting slices across his skin. They test his reflexes, try to test his abilities with weapons, but he takes out three men before the tranq dart takes effect. They put him back in the chair. It hurts just as bad as he thinks he remembers. They give him a mouth guard this time. They ask him his name, where he was born, what year it is, but he doesn’t know the answer to any of them. They don’t ask him about the blond haired, blue eyed boy he sees in his mind. He doesn’t tell them about him. They seem to sense his noncompliance. He goes back in cryofreeze. 

They put him in the chair before he’s even fully awake, turning the electricity on high. He’s immediately moved to a table, and strapped down, so they can give him a new arm. He drifts in his mind through the pain. He talks to the slight figure with blond hair and blue eyes. He doesn’t know the boy’s name, but he knows he’s important. The new arm is lighter, moves easier. They have him show his hand to hand combat skills. He only slightly injures the other men. They put a weapon in his hand. He turns it on them. They break every rib on the right side of his body, press the still burning gun muzzle to different places on his body, blistering his skin. They spray him down with freezing water, and put him back in the chair with his hair still dripping down his back. He passes out. 

He wakes up in a cell, body aching, with a doctor sitting in the corner. . The doctor tells him he’s been called on to help save the world. Calls him Soldier, as if it means something. The Soldier nods, and follows him to a range. This man has not hurt him. The doctor places a gun in his hand, and tells him to fire at the target. The soldier fires. They tell him to fire on a lamb. He fires. They bring him to a room with a man tied to a chair, bag over his head. They tell him to fire. He lowers his weapon. The doctor is angry, shouts at the Soldier. The Soldier thinks about the man in his mind, turns the gun on the doctor. There’s a sharp prick at his neck. He wakes up in the chair. The doctor tells the men to start again. They wipe him, and put him back in the cold container. 

He is grateful to be woken up and brought out of the cold. The men in lab coats tell him he’s being trained to save the world. They update his weapon skills, and his hand to hand combat. The call him Asset, or Soldier, and he does what they tell him. They have him shoot at a range, then he must kill an animal, and then there is a man in front of him. The Asset is told to fire, so The Asset fires. They give him food he doesn’t remember what to do with. They tell him he must fight for them. They start sending him out with a team of other soldiers. He does not speak, acts only when told to. He carries out his missions. The Soldier has a purpose, the Soldier is helping. The face in his head smiles at him. The wipe him before they put him back in the container. The Soldier does not fight them. This is necessary. The Soldier does not question orders. The Soldier wants to be left alone with the face in his head. 

The Soldier does not know how many times he has been woken and put back in the container. He only knows what they tell him. Sometimes, when he has a long mission, he thinks he might have had a name once. He thinks about the face in his brain, wonders if the man in his mind is real. They wipe him if he brings it up, so he learns to keep his mouth shut. They point him at a target, tell him he’s doing the world a favor, and the Soldier does his job. He sees mated pairs during the course of his work, and it tugs at his heart and mind, a memory trying to surface. The Soldier pushes it down. 

His good work is rewarded with a new arm. They even give him something to drown out the pain. The Soldier does not know the difference. A man with light hair and blue eyes comes to him and shows him his target. The man outlines what the Soldier is to do. The man reminds him of a half remembered face, but his eyes are too cruel. The Soldier dresses in the clothes laid out for him, stashes weapons all over his body. They give him a grenade launcher. He is to shoot the SUV of Fury, Nicholas, status: target. Failure is not an option.


	4. Interlude: Steve's point of view

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about this chapter, it’s super text heavy, but I knew if I didn’t post it soon, I never would. It ended up mainly being just an overview of the Avengers and TWS, so basically it’s an interlude from Steve’s point of view. Also, for the suicidal behavior/thoughts tag: I personally believe that Steve’s actions throughout the winter soldier, showed how very depressed he was, and the complete disregard for his life that he showed. I wrote some of Steve’s inner monologue accordingly.

The history books all say captain America was an alpha, so Steve guess Senator Brandt died happy. They also say he was in love with Peggy Carter, and that Bucky Barnes was a "childhood friend". Steve snorts, he's not sure the books have one true fact about him besides his name and birthdate. 

It's weird, being in the future. There aren't any flying cars, but the buildings seem to stretch on forever. There are so many options for food, he has the whole world at his fingertips with the Internet, and society seems to have taken several steps toward total equality. Brooklyn doesn't feel like Brooklyn. The poor areas have stayed poor, and the rich areas got richer. Family run businesses are few and far between, and half the time he calls a place a robot answers. He really is a man out of time. 

Fury slips Steve a bottle of suppressants before Steve leaves, making him wonder who else knows his orientation. He doesn't have to keep it a secret now, in this new progressive era where omegas have full rights, and can be found serving overseas or as heads of huge companies. It certainly makes life easier keeping it a secret though. He takes the suppressants and keeps his scent neutral, avoids the eyes of interested omegas and betas everywhere he goes. It's better to ignore his orientation, to repress it. He didn't fully get to share that experience with Bucky, he's damn well not going to share it with anyone else. 

So he lets SHIELD set up an apartment for him just outside of Brooklyn, it comes fully furnished, and with a closet full of clothes in the styles Steve's familiar with. He finds an old school boxing gym, and slips the owner a fifty when he wants to work out there after close by himself, quickly learning to buy extra punching bags, because he never makes it through a session without breaking at least one. He buys sketchbooks and fills them with the future, Bucky's face and body somehow making its way on to every page. He runs in the morning, buys himself a motorcycle, attempts to live some semblance of a life. It's not what he wanted, but it's all he has. 

The days all blend together. It takes weeks for him to get up the nerve to ask for his old friends' files. Most of the Commandos have passed, thankfully due to old age, but Peggy's still alive and kicking. He gets her current address, but doesn't go see her. Maybe he's a coward. He tells himself he doesn't want to upset her, especially when she believes he died 70 years ago. He doesn't want to give her a heart attack. Part of it though, maybe most of it, is she knows him too well, knows exactly what he lost, and how much he didn't want to be found. They pity in her eyes would be too much to bear when he already feels so fragile and on edge. 

He stays in New York, desperate for any sense of familiarity, tries to be grateful for the second chance he's been given. He's not surprised when Fury shows up at the boxing gym. He's kept his distance from SHIELD and by definition, Fury, because he doesn't know what to think about them, and he's not all that ready to start taking orders again. He already died saving the world once, wasn’t that enough? 

He looks over the debriefing packet left on the table in his living room. He hears Erskine’s voice in his head, telling him he’s a good man. He thinks about turning Fury down. Goddamn Howard for pulling that fucking cube out of the water. He doesn’t sleep that night, instead he tosses and turns. Maybe Steve Rogers really did die in the ice, maybe now he just needs to be Captain America. He has the skills and ability, and really, what else is he going to do with his time? He accepts the mission, because the other option would be to sit around and mope, and Bucky didn’t fall off a train for Steve to let the world go to hell. 

He shows up the next morning at SHIELD’s Manhattan office, ready to be Captain America. An agent introduced to him as Coulson shows him to the quinjet waiting for them on the roof. Coulson clearly knows who he is, and spends the entire ride fawning over Steve. It gives him a warm, gooey feeling in his chest, to hear Coulson, an Alpha, praise him. It also makes him deeply uncomfortable, because Coulson doesn’t really know who Steve is, or what he’s done. Would Coulson still admire Steve if he knew the truth? The uncertainty of it makes Steve fidget. He’s grateful for the interruption when they land on the ship. 

He’s never met Natasha before but he has heard of her. He knows the rumors that have spread through SHIELD about her, and about her less than pristine past, but Steve likes her immediately, even if he can’t get a good read on her. She’s obviously highly trained and competent, and in that respect she reminds him of Peggy. Steve has no idea what her orientation is, and he thinks that’s the point. It’s probably advantageous in her line of work to be able to be whatever she wants to be. He likes her, but he doesn’t trust her. 

Steve didn’t think he would like Bruce Banner. He shakes his hand on the tarmac, thinks he’ll have to be polite and keep his true feelings to himself, but Bruce isn’t what he expected. He’s obviously uncomfortable with who he is, what he can do, but he’s here on the ship to help, even when he doesn’t want to be. Steve respects that. Steve knows that Bruce became the Hulk when he was trying to replicate the serum, and it was that information that made Steve weary. But the doctor has a kind temperament, and looks at Steve like he’s a person instead of a figurehead, and Steve knows the beta is a good man. He doesn’t have to lie when he tells Bruce he doesn’t care about the Hulk. 

He gives Fury the ten bucks he owes him, because he certainly is surprised the ship can fly. And it turns invisible. The future is fucking amazing. He listens to Banner talk about gamma ray signals and learns they can track Loki, weird name, by using other peoples’ cell phones. Like everything else he experiences in this new future, he wishes Bucky were here to share it with him. Bucky was always more interested in science fiction than he was, he’d get a kick out of what the future turned out to be like. 

He’s not used to the hurry up and wait part of the mission. Back during the war, Steve and the Commandos were just pointed at their next target and set loose. The only waiting they did was after a mission, and usually involved the Commandos waiting for Steve and Bucky to finish fucking in whatever temporary camp they’d made for themselves. Now he has to bide his time until Loki, from a different planet?, shows up on someone’s cellphone. 

He’s ashamed of how nervous he is when Fury finally tells him to suit up. These people all expect him to be the best of the best, he only hopes he can live up to their expectations. He goes to get the suit, thinks it’ll be familiar to wear something he used to practically live in. But it’s a lot different, worse than he remembers it being. Was it always this garish? No wonder Bucky had loved it so much when he’d worn it. Even Steve thinks it’s funny looking. 

Natasha and another agent fly him out to Germany. It’s weird being in Germany again, so very different from the last time he was here. His stomach gets the tight/hot feeling he associates with rage when he sees people kneeling before Loki, one man standing up to him. He knows deep down in his gut that Loki is going to kill him. 

Fighting Loki is like fighting the Red Skull, except Loki is also magical. He can apparently conjure replicas of himself, and he definitely doesn’t go down easy. At least, he doesn’t until Stark shows up. 

He really expected to like Tony, but Tony rubs him the wrong way almost instantly. He is the spitting image of Howard in the pictures Steve’s seen of him. It's disconcerting to see so much of Howard in this sarcastic, borderline rude, man-child. He's got Howard's genius and flair for the dramatics, but where Howard was charming, Tony comes off as abrasive and haughty. He finds himself wondering what the hell Howard did to raise a child like Tony. When Tony takes off his suit back in on the ship, Steve is stunned to realize that Tony is an omega. 

Thor is easier to understand, but that’s possibly because Steve chooses not to think about other worlds and Gods. He was raised Catholic for Christ’s sake, he just thinks of Thor as a person. A person with the power to fly and call forth lightening, and a bat shit crazy brother, but a person nonetheless. He’s also an extremely good looking alpha, yet another thing Steve refuses to think about. 

There’s a lot of talk back on the plane that he doesn’t understand. And what little input he has is ignored. Steve knows something isn’t right, it was too easy to capture Loki, but no one else seems to think so. Steve trails Tony and Bruce back to their lab, gets there just in time to see Tony stab Bruce. Obviously, Dr. Banner has excellent control, but Stark shouldn’t be messing around, purposefully trying to provoke him. 

Steve’s never spent much time, if any, with other male omegas, and there’s a primal part of him that is on edge around Tony. He feels the need to prove himself to Tony, prove he’s useful and smart, its unlike how he feels around alphas. He doesn’t really want Tony’s approval, but he does want to show his skills, maybe he wants Tony to be jealous of him. 

Tony is so sure of himself, despite, or maybe because of his orientation, in a way Steve could never be, was never _allowed_ to be. But Tony has a point about Fury, and he hates feeling like he’s useless, so he takes the direct approach and goes to investigate the ship. It’s confusing, the rush of emotions he feels, and it makes him angry, to be talked down to by the son of the man he cared about. He hears Tony’s remark when he leaves. It hurts more than it should. He wishes they’d left him in the ice too. 

Finding the hydra weapons is like a slap in the face. He wants to destroy every single one of them, but he doesn’t, there has to be a reason they’re here. The lab where Dr. Banner and Stark are working is already tense when he drops the weapon on the table, making the room even tenser. He’s regretting ever agreeing to join this mission. 

Then part of the plane explodes. The next few hours go by in a blur. Steve helps Stark restart an engine, trying not to get shot, while Loki frees himself, and the Hulk drops out of the sky. Then it’s all over and Coulson is dead, Thor is missing, and Natasha is really shaken up. Steve thinks she’s awfully concerned about her co-worker, but it’s none of his business. 

Steve is woefully unprepared to fight aliens. They all are really, but what choice do they have? He takes Natasha at her word that her ‘friend’ is fine to fly them to New York. He sort of wants to laugh that Loki is using Stark’s eyesore of a building as the stage for his final battle, but he keeps that thought to himself. 

Tony seems sure that Bruce will show up for the fight, Steve isn’t as sure, and he can’t count of Banner in his plans. Their only option is to contain the threat, eliminate as many hostiles as possible, and try to find a way to shut down the cube. 

It feels right to be fighting again, using his powers for good, doing something worthwhile that Erskine would approve of. It’s nothing like fighting with the Commandos at his back, and for the first time he feels free. He can do this, lead these people, maybe save the Earth while he’s at it. 

He’s got at least three broken ribs, feels like he’s been electrocuted, and is bleeding from either a gunshot or stab wound he doesn’t remember getting when Natasha tells them she’s got a way to close the hole. He tells her to close it before Stark mentions the nuke heading their way. Getting the nuke through the wormhole is the only chance they have. 

When Tony drops out of the wormhole, Steve gets the full picture of who Tony is. He still wants to punch Howard in the face for messing up his kid as bad as he did, but for all of his faults, Tony is a good man. It just took Steve a while to figure it out. Steve genuinely feels bad for how wrong he was about Tony, though Tony certainly didn’t make it easy for Steve to really get to know him. He sits at the table in the destroyed Shwarma restaurant, looks around at these people who were strangers a week ago, and knows he made the right decision to get back in the game. 

It’s a new beginning for Steve. It’s a second chance he doesn’t deserve and didn’t want, but he’s determined to take advantage of it. He can’t just continue to lock himself away and mope over everything he’s lost. He can’t really move on, but he can sort of start over. So he commits fully to SHIELD, learns new, better hand to hand combat, pushes his body harder and faster, runs every morning. He gets a new suit, one that doesn’t bring back memories of Alien invasions or Bucky teasingly slipping a hand under the shirt. He jumps at the chance to move to DC, to be closer to SHIELD headquarters, feels like he can finally breathe being away from the city that was full of memories of Bucky. DC is neutral territory. 

He gets a notebook and fills it up with things he needs to learn and catch up with, really immerse himself in this future he thought he would never see. He stops drawing. It’s something from the past he thinks maybe shouldn’t be carried over to his future. He’s the new and improved Steve Rogers, the one who spars with trained agents to let off steam, and flirts with his neighbors. He gets closer to Natasha, and thinks she probably knows he’s not an alpha, probably even suspects he’s not a beta, but keeps trying to set him up anyway, like she’s seeing if he’ll cave and tell her the truth or call her bluff and go on a date. 

He finally gets up the courage to visit Peggy. His return is all over the news, after the attack on New York. She’d kill him if he didn’t go see her. It’s hard, watching her go from perfectly in the moment, to being confused about where she is and how he’s alive. It’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t go and visit as often as he would like to. He can’t watch her slowly decline, not when he hasn’t aged a day since he met her. 

It’s a constant effort not to compare the Strike team with the Howling Commandos. He has to keep his distance from them, because it’s so close to what he had during the war, but so different, that it hurts. He tries to see them for who they are individually, but it’s difficult, working with a team without having Bucky as his second in command. Besides, the men and women of the Strike team, mostly a bunch of well-trained alphas, look at him and see Captain America, not Steve Rogers, and it’s too easy to keep it purely professional. 

He goes on raids, hears Bucky’s voice in his mind laughing at his fancy footwork, imagines Bucky’s look of disappointment when Steve gets three broken ribs on one mission and breathes like he has asthma again while he waits for them to heal. 

Agent Coulson had told him about the exhibit dedicated to him at the Smithsonian, so on a mission free day he visits it. . He’s completely unprepared for the rush of simultaneous pride and grief at seeing Bucky’s memorial. It’s nice to know history has not forgotten Bucky, arguably the most important person in Steve’s life, but it is infuriating to see that the world has reduced him to Steve’s sidekick, like he wasn’t the person who saved Steve’s life countless times, or saw Steve’s worth when Steve could barely see it himself. 

It says ‘best friends since childhood’ on the wall, like they weren’t madly in love with each other. The memorial doesn’t talk about the orphanage, or how much Bucky worked to save up money for Steve’s medicine. It’s full of half-truths and some outright misinformation, but it’s the only thing he has left of Bucky. He makes himself keep visiting, even though it’s painful, because at least he knows how much Bucky truly sacrificed, and this is the only way he can show it. 

He meets Sam, an alpha that reminds him of a weird combination of Peggy and Bucky, with humor and caring, and a deep sense of empathy. There’s a warm fluttering feeling in his chest around Sam that he hasn’t felt since Bucky, and it takes him aback. Sam looks at him and knows he’s Captain America, but he also sees Steve, the soldier. He understands the parts of Steve that Steve’s still trying to figure out. Bucky would have liked him. He thinks briefly about something more than friendship with Sam, before putting that thought aside. Maybe in another life. 

Then the Lamarian Star happens. He feels betrayed by Fury and Natasha. He feels used. Even in this one area where he’s supposed to have control, be the one giving the orders, he’s really only playing at being Fury’s toy soldier. Anger burns white hot through him, making his hands shake on the plane ride back to headquarters. 

“You just can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?” Steve’s pretty sure he almost gave the agent pretending to be Fury’s secretary a heart attack when he stormed past her and into Fury’s office. 

Fury gives him a look. Steve ignores it, his lying isn’t what they’re talking about. “I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission.” 

Steve’s eyes burn with the strain of not rolling. “I can’t lead a mission if the people I’m leading have missions of their own.” He does roll his eyes when Fury gives him a speech about compartmentalization. He follows Fury into the elevator. He thinks he couldn’t possibly be any more disappointed/angry with Fury. He’s wrong. 

He tells Fury, “This isn’t freedom, this is fear.” But either Fury is so set in his own ideas of justice that he’s blind to how _wrong_ project insight is, or he just doesn’t care. Steve’s stomach rolls. They want to kill people, not for what they have done, but for what they might do. He wants to scream. 

He leaves the triskelion with a bad taste in his mouth. It’s the first time he’s truly and completely felt not cut out for the future. Steve turns over Fury’s jab about his old missions in his mind. He feels lost and confused, so he does what he always does, visits the Smithsonian and Peggy, and really piles on the misery. 

He heads over to the VA. It’s not often he feels the need for validation from an Alpha, but this is one of the few times he does. He feels so out of sorts. Sam doesn’t try to talk him into staying with SHIELD, he just asks what makes Steve happy. He doesn’t have an answer, not one that’s true in any case. Everything that made him happy went into the ice 70 years ago. 

He’s still angry when he gets back to his apartment and finds Fury inside. He’s on alert, but is still unprepared when shots come through his wall. He feels an immediate sense of betrayal when Sharon kicks down his door, not only has his apartment been bugged, but SHIELD has apparently planted people in his life, with the sole purpose of keeping an eye on him. He channels all his anger into running after the sniper. 

When the guy, _fast, probably heightened abilities, metal arm_ , catches the shield, it stuns Steve enough to pause for a few seconds, giving the sniper enough time to disappear. 

Steve makes the trek back to his apartment silently. Paramedics have already come and taken Fury to the hospital. The entire building is swarming with SHIELD agents and local cops. Steve takes one look at the bloodstains smeared on his floor, and catches a ride with an agent he’s never met to the hospital. 

Maria Hill meets him in the hallway, and escorts him to a surgery viewing room. Natasha shows up a few minutes later, more visibly upset than Steve has ever seen her. Even under the circumstances, it makes Steve feel warm that Natasha is allowing herself to show the type of vulnerability she’s expressing. 

The doctors call the time of death on Fury. Steve grips the flashdrive a little harder. He glances at Natasha, thinks, _‘Don’t trust anyone’_ , and lies when she asks him why Fury was in his apartment. 

Alexander Pierce is an alpha that exudes authority. Steve hates him immediately. Being in his presence makes Steve want to hunch his shoulders, make himself smaller, avoid direct eye contact, so he does the opposite. There’s something in Pierce’s eyes that make Steve wary, omega instincts aside. The whole conversation is strange. Steve knows Pierce is trying to manipulate him, and it rankles, to be played the way Pierce is playing him. He knows when he leaves the room without giving Pierce what he wants, that it won’t go unpunished. 

There’s a moment in the elevator, when Rumlow says, “Woah, big guy.” And every instinct Steve has tells him to stop, to obey. He thinks Rumlow might apologize, might decide he’s on Steve’s side, might let him go. That doesn’t happen. He takes a deep breath and jumps out the window. He wonders if Bucky felt the same weightlessness when he fell. The jar of the impact knocks the air out of him. He’s grateful. The pain helps him focus. 

He swipes some clothes out of a guy’s gym bag, stuffs his uniform in their place. If it’s bugged, which he’s willing to bet it is, at least it’ll buy him some time. He takes a cab to the hospital, making sure to pay cash, keeps his head down and his hood up, while he goes to retrieve the flash drive. 

He swears his heart actually stops beating for a second when he sees that the flashdrive is gone. Then he spots Natasha’s reflection, and before he knows it he has here backed up against a wall. Maybe he’s grown cynical, because he wants to trust Natasha, but he just can’t bring himself too. He follows her lead because he has no other option. 

He’s unsurprised that the drive leads them to Camp Lehigh. It’s fitting, to be back where it all began. It’s completely devastating to learn this thing Peggy helped create, this institution that Steve has been working for, has been part Hydra all along. 

He hears Zola’s voice in his head, _“you died for nothing”_ repeating over and over again as he carries Natasha’s unconscious form out of the rubble. He has to steal another car to take them to the only place he can think of that might be safe. 

He shows up at Sam’s door, strung out on the emotions raging inside of him, Natasha leaning heavily against his side. 

Sam is the most unflappable Alpha Steve has ever met. He welcomes them into his home, gives them clothes, offers his shower, and makes them breakfast. Steve is impressed when Sam pulls out a file and drops it on the table in front of him. It’s a hell of a resume. 

It’s almost too easy for Natasha to break Sam’s wings out of the army base they’re being held at, and for them to track down Sitwell. He lets Sam and Natasha intimidate Sitwell, follows their lead, doesn’t even flinch when Sitwell goes screaming over the edge of the building. 

∞ 

Later, when Steve has a moment to spare to think and breathe, he plays the events from the freeway back over in his mind. God, how could he have let Bucky fall? He should have jumped after him, should have gone back for him afterwards, should have done anything besides trying to drown his sorrows in some bombed out pub. 

The blank look on Bucky’s face won’t leave his mind. He’s ashamed that when he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his skull, Rumlow’s voice in his ear, he was actually hoping they would pull the trigger. He gave up on Bucky, and he’ll never forgive himself for it. He blinks back tears. This must be what dying feels like, he can’t imagine anything more painful than letting down the one person he would rather die than let down. 

He doesn’t move when Sam joins him on the bridge. His skin feels hot and tight, and he’s coming down hard from the adrenaline rush. He startles when he realizes he needs to take more suppressants if he doesn’t want to go into heat soon. He side eyes Sam, lets Sam warn him against trying to save Bucky, promptly ignores his advice, and decides he’s hidden enough in his life. Bucky remembered him once before, he will again. 

Time seems to move faster after he steals his old uniform back from the Smithsonian. His mind blurs through the fighting, body running on autopilot, until he finds himself face to face with Bucky on the third hellicarrier. “Please don’t make me do this.” He begs Bucky. He doesn’t want to have to hurt Bucky, but he can’t let Bucky stop him either. He swallows back the desperate words he wants to say. 

It damn near kills him to dislocate Bucky’s shoulder, to choke him out. It goes against every instinct he has, especially with his heat so close to coming on fully. He’s running out of time, and thought of failing is the only thing that keeps him going through the pain of the gunshot wounds Bucky inflicted on him. He gives Maria the order to fire once the last card is in place. 

He’s thrown off balance by the rocking of the hellicarrier as it’s hit. Bucky’s scream is the only thing that motivates him into moving. He lifts the steel beam pinning Bucky to the ground, has to look away from Bucky and the fear in his eyes. 

“You know me.” He tells Bucky, tries to get close enough that his scent might register with Bucky. “You’ve known me your whole life. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.” 

He feels the bones in his face crack when Bucky backhands him with his metal arm, sending him staggering backwards. 

“I’m not gonna fight you, Buck. You’re my friend.” He lets the shield slip through his fingers, stumbles as the hellicarrier tips. “My mate, Bucky, please.” He’s so tired, body burning from the gun shots, and with his approaching heat. 

Bucky’s eye twitches, nostrils flaring. He snarls. “You’re my mission.” He lunges at Steve, taking him crashing to the floor. He draws back, bashes his metal fist once, twice, three times into Steve’s face. 

“Then finish it, ‘cause I’m with you, til the end of the line.” Steve gasps out, braces himself for another blow, body gone lax from pain, eyes swollen too much to see Bucky clearly. Maybe there’s a look of recognition in Bucky’s eyes, maybe it’s just wishful thinking. He can vaguely make out Bucky’s fist, frozen in midair, before the hellicarrier shifts under him, and he starts to fall. It’s fitting, Steve thinks, to go this way, the same way Bucky had. He closes his eyes, lets the pain take over, slips into the welcoming darkness right as he hits the water. 

There’s water clogging his ears, and his lungs burn when he tries to breathe, exhaling water instead of air. He feels firm ground under him, has the awareness to think _Bucky_ , before awareness fades and he passes out. 

Sam looks at Steve with kind eyes when he wakes up in the hospital. “I think you freaked a few of the doctors out.” 

Steve blinks at Sam in confusion, shifts slightly, painfully, on the bed. “What?” His skin feels tight and hot, stretched too thin. It takes him a moment to place the sensation. He feels his cheeks flush a dark red. “Oh.” 

“They gave you suppressants when you got here. They were afraid of what going into heat could do to your injuries.” Sam leans back in his chair, unfolds the newspaper he has resting in his lap. “Natasha swore them to secrecy.” He shrugs. “Well, threatened might be a better word.” 

“You’re not mad?” Steve can barely bring himself to ask the question, but he needs to know. 

“I’m not gonna lie, I was a little hurt you didn’t think you could tell me.” Sam sighs, gives up all pretense of casualness. “I get it though. I figure you didn’t tell many people, and you have the right to keep things to yourself.” 

“Never told anyone, ‘cept-.” Steve’s throat grows thick with emotion when he tries to say Bucky’s name, emotions too raw. 

Sam nods like he knows without Steve needing to say his name. “Except for Bucky.” 

Steve winces at the name. “I just, I used to have to hide it, and then when I woke up…” 

“It was easier to keep pretending.” 

Steve breathes out harshly, ribs twinging, a burning pain starting to rise through the drug induced fog. “Yeah.” 

Sam hits the nurse call button on the bed. “I was supposed to page them as soon as you woke up, but I wanted a chance to talk to you first.” He gives Steve a firm look. “We’ll talk about how stupid it was to go off your suppressants later.” 

Steve huffs a painful laugh just as the doors open and a team of doctors and nurses enter. “Thanks, Sam.” He mumbles, cold fire filling his veins as a doctor injects something into his IV. The doctor says something, asks a question, but Steve can’t make it out. He hears Sam’s calm voice responding as the drugs pull him under. 

He’s much more clear headed when he wakes the next time, serum having fixed most of his major injuries. He’s aware enough to be embarrassed that his secret is officially out, aware enough to know that going off his suppressants was one of his more stupid ideas. He can hear breathing coming from the chair next to him, the beeping of the many machines he’s hooked up to. He peeks one eye open to find Natasha, beautiful in a fitted suit, staring at him with pursed lips and a raised brow. 

“Morning.” Natasha glances at the door meaningfully. “Sam said you’d woken up.” 

Steve follows Natasha’s eye line to see Sam leaning against the door, effectively blocking it. He nods at Sam, who smiles back. “Is it morning?” 

“Try early afternoon.” The sound of arguing carries through the door. Sam and Natasha ignore it. 

“Did I miss something?” 

“Oh, just the world trying to figure out how to deal with the fact Hydra’s been playing them all along.” Natasha crosses her legs gracefully, shoots Steve a sharp look. “We rocked a lot of people’s world views.” 

Steve chews his lip. He wants to ask about Bucky, but is afraid of the answer. 

“Nobody’s seen your boy.” Sam says, correctly guessing Steve’s train of thought. “Thankfully, everyone is more focused on the wreck in the Potomac than what happened on the freeway.” 

“So nobody’s looking for him?” He sits up, ignoring the pained look Sam gives him and the sharp pains shooting through his wounds. “Natasha?” 

“This is a good thing, Steve. Hydra’s busy trying to collect themselves, salvage what they can. They’re not looking for him, and we’re not drawing their attention to him.” She reaches over and taps a button on the bed, raising the head so Steve can sit up comfortably. 

“But-“ 

Sam sighs, shrugging his shoulders when Natasha glances at him, a silent, _I told you so _.__

 _ _“Steve, you need to focus on recovering. Finishing healing, and then we’ll talk about this.” She pats Steve’s shoulder. “And please keep taking the suppressants.”__

 _ _

Steve flushes, mumbles an apology. 

Natasha grins. “At least now I know why you kept turning down the people I was trying to set you up with.” 

“Leave the man alone, Natasha.” Sam shakes his head. “Can’t you see he’s having a bad couple of days?” 

“You would be too if you’d just been shot multiple times.” 

“Hey! I had a building nearly fall on me!” Sam grins. “Whose fault was that again?” 

“Cheer up, Steve. The doctors said you should be able to leave in the next day or two, provided you get enough rest.” Natasha says before Steve can come up with an appropriate comeback. She hits the nurse call button. “I think we’ve commandeered your attention for long enough. The doctors probably want to ask you some questions.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek before standing up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to appear before Congress.” 

Sam takes her vacated seat as the doctors come in and start asking questions. _‘How are you feeling?’ ‘On a scale of 1-10, how badly do you hurt?’ ‘Are you having any adverse effects from your heat being stopped so suddenly?’_. Steve does his best to answer their questions, tries to stay awake for as long as possible before Sam takes pity on him and tells the doctors to let Steve rest. 

He’s released from the hospital the next day. They wanted to keep him longer, but Steve can be persuasive when he needs to be. Natasha texts Sam to tell them to meet her at the cemetery before they’ve made it completely out of the hospital. Steve is no longer surprised that Natasha seems to know everything all the time. Sam points his new car, courtesy of Tony Stark, in the direction of Arlington. 

He tells Fury there’s something he has to do, and he means it. He takes the file from Natasha and accepts her words for the warning they are. When it’s just him and Sam, Sam asks, “When do we start?” 

“Now.” Steve replies.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m horrible, I decided to break up the last part. So, one more chapter to go. But I have a good chunk of it written. Hit me up on [tumblr](http://spookyscarycherry.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who's stuck it out, especially all of you who have left comments or kudos. This wouldn't have happened without all of you.

The first thing Steve does is come out to the media. His files have probably been dumped with the rest of SHIELD’s info, and Steve doesn’t want to wait for some reporter to search through the data and corner him with the knowledge. If he’s going to expose one of the only secrets he’s ever really kept, it needs to be on his terms. He doesn’t want it to be some big production, him standing at a podium surrounded by the press, hot lights bearing down. He shudders at the thought. 

He talks it over with Sam, and together they come up with the idea of just posting a video to the internet. Steve only waits long enough for all his bruises and marks to fade before he sits in Sam’s living room, places the laptop in front of him, and turns the camera on. 

“My name is Steve Rogers, though many of you know me as Captain America. I know there’s a lot of scary stuff happening right now. A lot of information has been released, and it’s hard to sort through. We’re all adjusting to the fact we’ve been lied to by people we’ve trusted. I’m sorry to say that I’ve been a part of the problem.” He takes a deep breath, catches Sam’s encouraging look out of the corner of his eye, straightens his shoulders and looks right into the tiny camera. 

“But not anymore. The truth is I’m an omega. Back before the serum, I never fully presented, and afterwards, I wanted so badly to fight for this country, for freedom, that I allowed my status to be kept secret. To be lied about. You couldn’t be an omega and a soldier back in those days. I know you can be now.” He fidgets, a tiny shift of his weight on the couch cushions. “Some of you are probably wondering why I didn’t say anything sooner.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t have a good reason. I guess I wasn’t ready for the world to know.” 

“I know this will change the way some of you look at me. I’m okay with that. And for those of you wondering, why now? Well, the truth is, my mate is out there, and when he’s ready, I don’t want to have to hide him, or our relationship.” 

He grins at the camera, not his Captain America grin, but the small, happy one he used to give Bucky, and then pushes the button to end the recording. He exhales shakily, and glances at Sam. “I made that one up off the top of my head.” 

Sam laughs, and uploads the video for him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a smartass, Rogers?” 

The video is up for less than a minute before Tony’s personal ringtone starts blaring from the speakers on Steve’s phone. Steve rolls his eyes when he picks up and Tony is just laughing hysterically into the phone. 

“Did my dad know? I bet he didn’t. Holy shit this is the best day of my life.” Tony manages to choke out after a few minutes, smile clear in his voice. “Who knew you had it in you, Capsicle?” 

Steve can practically hear the innuendo in Tony’s voice. “Glad to have made your day, Stark.” 

Tony outright giggles. “You made my century, Cap.” He sighs happily to himself. “I’ve cleared a floor for you in the tower. You’re welcome to it anytime. Your friend with the wings is welcome, too.” 

“I appreciate the offer, Tony. I think I need to stick around here for a little bit longer though.” Steve’s genuinely touched by Tony’s offer, but he doesn’t know where Bucky is, and if there’s a chance Bucky is still in the area Steve isn’t going to leave it. 

“Well, it’s an open offer. Anytime you want to swing by, stay a few hours, a few days, forever. You’re welcome.” Tony goes quiet for the space of a few heartbeats. “The guy you were talking about in the video? You’re going looking for him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Let me know if I can help.” Tony pauses. “And Cap, be careful, alright? I’ve seen the footage from the freeway, we don’t know who’s out there looking for revenge. I have Jarvis working on running through SHIELD’s files, I’ll let you know if I find anything.” Tony hangs up before Steve can reply. 

Steve hasn’t even put the phone down when it chimes with a text message. 

**From Natasha: _Millions of omega hearts are breaking right now_**

Steve shakes his head and texts back : _Find yourself yet?_

Two seconds after he hits send, he gets back, **_No, but I found someone else._**

Steve’s breath catches in his chest, hands shaking when he goes to open the attachment Natasha sent with it. Coordinates and a photo. The shell of a building, smoke partially clouding the picture. 

His phone chimes. Another text message. **_Hydra base. He left most of them alive_**

“Sam.” Steve calls, voice shaking as badly as his hands. “We’ve got something.” 

Sam is at his side in an instant, hands still covered in flour from whatever he was making in the kitchen. He leans into Steve’s space, takes the phone gently out of Steve’s hands before Steve can drop it, and flips through Natasha’s texts. “Alright, I’ll pack a bag.” 

Steve blinks at Sam, words filtering slowly through his brain. This is the first sign they’ve had from Bucky since Bucky left him on a shore, and Steve’s panicking a little. It’s the moment Steve’s been waiting for, but somehow Steve isn’t prepared for it. His chest hurts. He might not be breathing. 

“Steve, breathe. I’m going to turn off the oven, wash my hands, and pack a bag. You’re going to breathe, nice and even, and then pack your own bag. We can be on the road in thirty minutes.” Sam pushes at Steve’s shoulders until Steve sits on the couch. “Breathe, Steve.” 

Steve takes a huge, gasping breath. “He could still be there.” It’s a very slim possibility, no matter what state of mind Bucky is in, there’s no way he’d stick around what’s essentially a crime scene. But Steve needs something to hold on to, a sliver of hope to keep buried in his chest. 

Sam pats Steve on the shoulder, not crushing his hope, but not encouraging it either. “I need to go turn off the oven. Are you okay?” 

Steve waves Sam off, takes a few steading breaths, and gets up to pack his bag. They’re gone in under thirty minutes. 

Two hours in a car silent except for the soft sounds of Sam’s IPod playing a mix of classic rock and old school R &B, and they arrive at the still smoking remains of a Hydra bolthole. There’s police tape wrapped around the building, and cops and government agents all over the site, looking for evidence. The young cop keeping nosy civilians out of the way must recognize Steve because he lifts the tape for him without a word. 

Bucky’s long gone. Steve tries not to be upset. Bucky is staying under the radar, keeping himself from being captured by Hydra or the Police who would have no idea what to do with him. 

A Detective informs them there were only two causalities, everyone else was injured but expected to make full recoveries. Steve knows that means this place was full of low level agents, otherwise they would have killed themselves. It begs the question, why take down this specific bolthole? 

Sam drives them to a motel down the street. There’s no point in going back to Sam’s just yet. 

Steve pulls out the folder Natasha gave him in the cemetery when he’s lying in bed that night listening to Sam snore from the bed next to his. He hasn’t read it yet, can’t bring himself to strip the last of Bucky’s privacy away. He holds the folder in his hands, and doesn’t sleep. 

In the morning there is a new text from Natasha, a new set of coordinates, and a new picture. This time the photo is a blurry shot from a security camera across the street from the hydra facility, showing Bucky with his metal arm just barely visible and a hat pulled down low over his eyes leaving the scene. 

Sam doesn’t say anything, just pulls his bag over his shoulder and checks them out of the motel. 

A few hours and a couple of state lines later, and they arrive at what looks like a warehouse. No police presence this time, no bodies littering the ground. The only things in the warehouse are tools, some machines, and the remains of what Steve’s thinks might have been a chair. Whatever it was, it's been torn to pieces scattered all over the room. There’s no trace of Bucky. 

It’s the second place they follow Bucky to, but it isn’t the last. Natasha keeps sending them coordinates, pictures when she has them, and Sam and Steve follow after, smoothing things over with the authorities in the cases of bodies being left behind, and staying in the wake of Bucky’s trail of destruction. 

Steve avoids the news, the internet, newspapers, stays in the hotel or motel they’re in, lets Sam bring them dinner or orders in. He’s not ready to face whatever media shitstorm is brewing after his coming out video, and he’s sure it is indeed a shitstorm. He spends every night staring at Bucky’s folder, until he either falls asleep, or takes a shower so that he can break down in private. 

Sam does his best to support Steve, tries to keep him sheltered from the news and the people who would tear him down. Despite all of it, Steve’s seen the headline from a major newspaper proclaiming in stark print, **Captain America: Hero or Whore?** , and listened to five minutes of news anchors from Fox News discuss whether the Smithsonian exhibit should be taken down due to his lying and being “unfit to serve the American people”. He’s not sure whether they were referring his status, or the fact he lied about, either way it’s news he doesn’t want to have to deal with. 

Somehow, even though Steve’s coming out is relatively minor compared to the fact a nazi organization had been hiding in a national security agency, more people are talking about whether Steve was sleeping with the troops during world war 2, than they are about how to repair the country’s security issues. 

A month into their impromptu road trip, Steve gets a picture from Natasha along with the caption **_Time to come home_**. The picture is of Bucky, but unlike the others taken from security cameras when Bucky was retreating from a crime scene, this one has Bucky in the Smithsonian, standing in front of his memorial plaque. It’s two in the morning when Steve gets it. He and Sam are on their way back to DC in five minutes flat. 

Steve nearly causes a national crisis when he shows up at the Smithsonian at four in the morning, and not seeing a security guard anywhere nearby, attempts to break in. The security guard finds him right as he's kicking down a reinforced door. Sam smooths things over. 

The only thing that shows Bucky was even there is a still from a single security camera. It doesn’t matter to Steve though, he knows this is a good thing, that Bucky had been trying to find out about himself. 

Sam and Steve are both close to dropping from exhaustion when they pull onto the street Sam’s house is located on and have to stop because five news vans are parked outside. 

Sam does the quickest U-turn Steve’s ever witnessed, and parks one street over. “What now?” 

“Stark said we could drop by anytime we wanted. Think you can make it to New York?” 

Sam shrugs. “I wasn’t that attached to the house anyway.” He says by way of answer and points them in the direction of the interstate. 

Steve calls ahead, because he’s considerate like that, and when they arrive Tony is waiting excitedly for them at the private entrance. 

“I’ll give you the grand tour later, but for now you both look like you could use some rest.” 

Sam and Steve have their own apartments on separate floors. When Steve says it isn’t necessary, Tony just winks at Steve. Steve lets it go. 

Steve waves at Tony when the elevator stops on his floor, offers a heartfelt thank you that Tony brushes off, and heads straight for his bed, not even bothering to change before he flops on it face first. It’s the closest thing to home Steve’s had in a long time. 

∞ 

It takes Tony one week to corner Steve and start in with the invasive questions Steve knew Tony was chomping at the bit to ask. 

Steve’s digging through the pantry in the communal kitchen trying to find anything to eat that he doesn’t have cook first, and visibly startles when he hears, “So, you and Agent Carter, was that a thing?” 

Steve sighs and ducks out of the pantry with a granola bar in his hand. He turns to find Tony sitting on the marble counter top, full attention focused on Steve. “No, it wasn’t a thing.” 

“You’re telling me you never hit that?” Tony scoffs in disbelief. His expression changes rapidly from disbelief to confusion to delight. “There was someone else?” 

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Tony.” Steve turns and strides out the kitchen, trying to put some distance between him and Tony’s questions. Tony follows after him. 

“C’mon Cap. We’re both omegas, this is practically required bonding conversation. All we need is pizza and to change into our pajamas and we can reenact every high school rom-com ever made.” 

Steve is not going to admit that he’s seen every single popular rom-com made in the last decade. He gives Tony an unimpressed look, but stops trying to make a break for the elevator. He wouldn’t put it past Tony to follow him to his apartment, and at least here, Sam isn’t around the witness his humiliation. He drops on one of the couches surrounding a plasma tv. “We’re not in high school, Tony.” 

“You’re right. Let’s trade the pizza and pajamas for Chinese and alcohol. Jarvis, the usual from that place on 59th please.” Tony walks as he talks, heading to the bar in the corner of the room and digging a few bottles out from under the counter. “Thor left some of the good stuff here.” 

“Your food will be delivered in approximately twenty minutes, Sir. Is there anything else?” 

Steve knows Jarvis is an AI, and therefore doesn’t really have emotions, but it seems like Jarvis’ tone is tinged with exasperation. He takes the bottle Tony holds out to him, scoots over to let Tony drop on the couch next to him, and turns to mirror Tony’s position. Back against the arm rest, legs crossed under him, facing each other. 

“Tell Pepper I’m having a girls’ day.” Tony grins at Steve, shiny, white teeth flashing, and cracks the seal on the whiskey. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” 

Steve rolls his eyes but leans forward to knock his bottle against Tony’s, then pops the top, and takes a swig. The alcohol leaves a warm trail down his throat, settling pleasantly in his stomach. “Girls’ day?” 

“You know, we’re going to eat, drink, gossip, trade our Alpha horror stories, just like teenage girls.” 

“That’s sexist.” 

Tony takes a gulp from his bottle, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud.” Tony grabs the remote from the middle cushion on the couch, flips through the channels rapidly, finally settling on one of the rom-coms Steve’s pathetically acquainted with. “Perfect. If you had longer hair, I could braid it. Should I get some nail polish?” 

“This was your idea!” 

“Fine, fine, I’m done.” Tony holds up a hand, an _I surrender_ gesture, then smirks. “So if it wasn’t Peggy Carter, who was it?” He blanches. “It wasn’t my dad was it?” 

Steve kicks out at Tony’s shin, horrified. “Gross, Tony, of course not!” 

Tony lets out a relieved breath, takes a huge swig of the whiskey, shuddering. “Thank god, that would have been awkward.” 

Steve waits until Tony has a mouthful of whiskey to say, “What, you don’t like the idea that I could have been your other daddy?” 

Tony splutters, chokes, and sprays the liquid all over his expensive clothes and couch. “That was cruel! Why did no one warn me you were this mean? Everyone thinks you’re so sweet, All-American Apple Pie, with those eyes and that smile. But I know the truth.” He points a finger accusingly at Steve. “I have seen the light! You are a cruel, cruel human being. Captain Cruel, in fact.” 

Steve laughs. It’s the lightest he’s felt since he woke up in the hospital in DC. He laughs until tears gather at the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks hurt for smiling, and then he laughs some more. 

“Yeah, sure, laugh at my pain. You have mentally and emotionally scarred me. I am traumatized.” Tony grumbles, but hips lips are turned up at the edges, and his eyes are crinkled the way they get when he’s happy. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve chuckles, placating. “If you’re so intent on bonding, why don’t you go first?” 

“Oh, Cap, if I had known you just wanted to hear the sordid details…” He dodges Steve’s half-hearted kick. “Fine. What should I start with? Ohh, let’s go for the good stuff. Alpha horror stories. I bet mine are better than yours.” 

“Not everything’s a competition, Tony.” 

“But if it was, I would always win.” Tony takes a drink, then puts the whiskey bottle on the floor, leans forward excitedly. “Alright, the best ones? Probably the MIT alphas. God, they could not stand having a young omega beating them in classes, scoring higher on tests, having a better GPA. I drove them crazy. Most of them were just plain rude, the ones that didn’t outright ignore me anyway. They’d get in my face, puff themselves up, try to talk me into helping them study, or occasionally they’d want me to help them cheat, try to put me in my place. Like their threats would make me cave.” Tony rolls his eyes. 

Steve’s brows furrow. Tony’s still smiling, like these are somehow _good_ memories, and not awful instances of Alphas trying to take advantage of his orientation. 

“The worst ones were the Alphas that started out being my friends. I can’t believe how naïve I was. I really thought they liked _me_ , and not just my orientation or my brains.” He shrugs. “I didn’t realize until I was close to going into heat, the stress of gearing up for finals was messing with my blockers, and one of my alpha friends offered some stress relief. It sounded like a good idea, and then he’s kissing up my neck and whispering in my ear about claiming me, making me his, and it didn’t sound just like dirty talk, but I was so into it because he smelled so good.” 

Steve sits up straighter, heart beating a little faster in his chest. Tony doesn’t seem to notice Steve’s distress, eyes gone wide and vacant as he recalls the memory. 

“It wasn’t until he started talking about how once I was his, I’d be able to help him pass his finals, then we could take over Stark Tech together, that I realized he was serious.” Tony shakes his head quickly, scrunches his nose as he sighs. “Anyway, needless to say, I put a stop to that liaison.” 

“Jesus, Tony, was it always like that?” Steve can’t help his incredulous expression. Tony was fifteen when he was at college. “How old was that alpha?” 

“I don’t know, early twenties maybe?” Tony shrugs. “It wasn’t a big deal. He wasn’t the first, and he certainly wasn’t the last. The alphas on the Stark Tech board of directors were worse. If they weren’t hitting on me, they were trying to set me up with someone. They wanted to marry me off, have me settle down with a mate and a brood of children. I could take the condescension, but their patronizing lectures on my behavior and _‘thinking about what’s best for the company’_ is what got to me.” 

Steve wants to ask about Howard, how he’d reacted when Tony presented, if he’d shown his kid the kind of support Tony had needed. Tony must read some of what Steve’s thinking about on his face because he smiles grimly. 

“Dear old dad wasn’t too happy when I presented. I think the rest of the board just took their cues from him. It’s not like everyone didn’t already know I was Dad’s biggest disappointment.” He blows out a breath, picks the bottle up and downs a few shots worth at once. Steve feels bad he brought it up. “It wasn’t all bad though. Once I realized I’d never live up to dad’s expectations, it was kind of freeing to just do what I wanted. I learned how to wrap all the alphas around my finger.” 

“Sir, the food is being brought up now. I suggest ingesting some of it before attempting to drink anymore.” Jarvis interrupts. 

Tony snorts but trades his bottle of whiskey for a bottle of water. They lapse into comfortable silence as the food arrives and they both dig in. 

It’s nice, Steve thinks, the quiet atmosphere, the good company. And isn’t that a shock, that Steve has come to think of Tony Stark as good company. He inhales an entire container of Lo Mein, and starts on a second when Tony picks up their earlier conversation. 

“I think Dad always assumed I’d be a beta, like him and mom. He never said it, but I could still tell. I was already a huge disappointment to him when I presented, but it’s kind of funny because I thought I couldn’t possibly fuck up worse in his eyes. I was wrong.” 

“He wasn’t such a dick when I knew him.” Steve offers, it’s an apology and the truth wrapped together. Howard was kind of a dick, but Steve wouldn’t have thought he had it in him to mess up his own child the way he did. 

“Yeah, well, losing you really messed him up.” Tony drops the water bottle on the floor, avoids Steve’s eyes as he picks the whiskey back up. “You aren’t exactly how he described, you know.” 

Steve doesn’t have a response to that. He nudges the carton of egg rolls closer to Tony with a toe. 

Tony gets a mouthful of whiskey, pops an egg roll in with it, and grimaces at the taste. When Steve laughs, he glares and says, “I think I’ve shared enough. Your turn, Captain Liar.” 

“Fine.” Steve shifts to put the empty carton on the floor, fiddles with liquor in his hands. “It was Bucky.” 

“No shit.” Tony whistles. “Childhood friends my ass.” 

“We were childhood friends. And we were more than friends.” 

“Alright, I can see that. Who else? I shared my alpha horror stories with you, it’s time to reciprocate.” 

Steve looks away, rubs the back of his neck with a sweaty hand. “I don’t have any alpha horror stories. No one knew I was an omega. Obviously.” 

“So that’s it? Barnes is your one and only?” Tony looks like his head might explode from this new information. “You’re telling me Captain America has not gotten any ass this century?” 

Steve glares, crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Well, I guess I should say Captain America hasn’t been getting any dick this century, huh?” Tony wiggles his eyebrows, doesn’t even bother to dodge the food carton Steve throws at him. “What have you been doing for your heats? Toys have never worked that well for me, I’ve always needed a heat partner. I can’t imagine going through one without someone else.” 

Steve flushes, tips of his ears bright pink, red crawling down his neck and chest. “I haven’t been having heats.” 

“Holy shit.” Tony jerks forward, concern warring with amazement on his face. “Are you serious? You haven’t had a heat since you unfroze? Do you know how dangerous that is?” 

“I haven’t had a heat ever.” Steve looks at the ceiling as he says it, face burning. 

“Cap, Steve, that is so unhealthy. Heat blockers have gotten much better since back in the day, but you can’t just use them forever. It’s dangerous.” 

Steve bites his lip. “I haven’t had much of a choice. Until a few weeks ago, no one even knew I was an omega. I couldn’t actually afford to go into heat. What if I’d been called on a mission?” 

“We can work something out. You need to let your body do its thing, Cap. It’s going to be fucking awful as it is, because you’ve repressed it for so long.” 

“Not yet.” Steve says quickly before Tony can start making arrangements on the spot. “Not yet. I know it’s dangerous, but... not yet.” 

Tony stops trying to dig his phone out of his pocket, studies Steve’s face. “This has to do with that guy you were talking about in the video. You’re waiting for him?” 

“It’s Bucky.” Steve blurts out, immediately swallowing a huge mouthful of Thor’s alcohol. “He’s the guy from the freeway. He’s who I was talking about in the video. He’s out there somewhere, alive, and I’m going to find him.” 

Tony leans back. “You don’t do things by halves, do you?” 

Steve huffs a laugh, surprised. “Not really, no.” 

Tony holds out the whiskey, waits until Steve clinks his alcohol against it. “To finding your man.” 

Steve smiles, crooked, pleased. “To finding Bucky.” 

Their conversation switches to lighter topics. The new designs Tony’s working on, his efforts to get all the avengers to move into the tower, Pepper’s epic throw down with a rival CEO who thought he could boss her around. It’s all innocent until an hour later when Tony’s bottle is more than half empty and Tony abruptly brings the conversation back to sex. 

“You really don’t know what you’re missing, Cap. Heat sex is the best sex.” Tony slurs slightly, practically falling in Steve’s lap when he leans forward to pat Steve on the shoulder. “It’s so good, you've never felt so complete. Every touch is amazing.” 

“Okay, Tony, I think you’ve had enough to drink. You should probably sleep it off.” Steve pushes Tony off him lightly, worms his way off the couch. He’s a little tipsy himself, and not quite as steady on his feet as usual. “Jarvis, could you call for Pepper, or someone, to come get him?” 

“Steve, seriously, you have to try it. You feel so empty, but then when you’re knotted-“ 

“Jarvis, tell me someone’s on their way now!” Steve shouts, trying to drown out Tony going on about being full. 

“And you just keep coming, Steve, it’s the best. So full, and you feel so safe, and you can be knotted so many-“ 

“For the love of god, Jarvis, where is someone? Anyone at all?!” 

The elevator doors open and Pepper steps out, looking beautiful and powerful as ever. “Hello, Steve.” 

“Hi, Miss Potts. Bye, Miss Potts.” Steve rushes past her as quickly as his tipsy body will let him, hitting the button for his floor over and over. 

“Pepper! I was just telling Steve how good heat sex is, you remember when-“ 

The elevator doors close before Steve has to hear the rest of the sentence. He sags gratefully against the wall. 

∞ 

Three days after Steve’s bonding experience with Tony, Steve’s out running with Sam when he gets yanked off the sidewalk and into a shaded alley. Steve lashes out, feels his fist connect with his attacker’s stomach, tries to twist, but his hoodie gets caught, and he pauses just long enough for his attacker to slam him face first into the brick wall. 

Steve’s preparing to kick back, slam his skull into his attacker’s nose when a body presses along his back, and he recognizes Bucky’s scent. He instantly goes lax against the wall Bucky has him pinned to. “Buck.” He turns his head to look at Bucky with wide, hopeful eyes. 

Bucky searches Steve’s face, loosening the pressure his arm was putting on the back Steve’s neck. “Are you real?” He demands finally, metal finger tips digging into the bricks next to Steve’s head. “Are you really him?” His voice takes on a desperate edge. 

“Yes, Bucky, god I promise. I’m Steve. Your Steve.” Steve cranes his head to the side, desperate to see Bucky’s face. 

“You don’t smell like it.” His eyebrows furrow, when Steve tries to turn to face him, he lets him. “On the hellicarrier, you smelled like…” He trails off, unsure. “I remembered that smell.” 

Steve flushes, keeps his back pressed against the wall. “It’s the suppressants. I wasn’t taking them before.” 

Bucky tilts his head, squinting at Steve. “You’re not fighting back.” 

“I told you Buck, I’m not gonna fight you.” Steve inches a hand across the distance between him and Bucky, gives Bucky plenty of time to pull back, pull away, before he rests it carefully on Bucky’s bicep. 

Bucky glances between Steve’s hand and Steve’s face, and slowly he drops his arm completely away from where it had still been pressing lightly along Steve’s throat. “You were-,” He cuts himself off, shakes his head. 

“What Bucky? I was?” Steve let’s Bucky pulls his arm out from under his hand, missing the contact instantly. 

“Smaller.” 

“Yeah. I used to be smaller.” Steve has an uncomfortable flashback to Bucky strapped down to a table, asking the same question. “Do you- do you remember?” The _me, do you remember me_ goes unsaid, gets lodged in Steve’s throat, tight with emotions. 

“I don’t know.” 

Steve has to close his eyes, has to will the anger and frustration and sadness down. He blinks them back open. “That’s okay, Buck. I remember for the both of us.” He grins, half-crooked. 

Bucky’s body goes tense. He cocks his head towards the mouth of the alley, and pulls away from Steve completely. 

Steve hears it then, Sam’s voice calling for him, footsteps pounding closer. “Bucky, please don’t go. It’s just Sam.” He takes a step towards Bucky, who flinches back. Steve immediately holds his hands up, non-threatening, and steps away. “Bucky.” He pleads. 

Bucky hesitates. “I need to know. I need to be sure.” 

“Of what? I can help you, Buck. Whatever you need to know.” 

Sam’s voice grows louder, his footsteps echoing from just around the corner. Bucky takes a step backwards, then another. “Not with this, Steve.” He says, and then takes a final step back into the shadows just as Sam jogs in front of the alley. 

Sam jogs closer to Steve as Bucky makes his escape. Steve stands frozen, Bucky’s voice playing on a loop in his mind. Bucky had said his name. 

“Steve, man, are you okay? What happened?” Sam crowds Steve’s line of sight, looking concerned and wary. 

“I’m fine.” Steve says mechanically. Bucky knew who he was. He’s better than fine. 

Sam doesn’t look like he believes Steve, but he doesn’t say anything, just patiently ushers Steve out of the alley. “Maybe we should head back to the tower.” 

Steve agrees, not really paying attention. Bucky had come to him, had known his name. He jogs back to the tower with a lighter heart. 

Steve doesn’t tell anyone about Bucky finding him, though he suspects Sam has figured it out. He debates going off the suppressants again, in an effort to draw Bucky in, but it feels manipulative, and Sam gives him this look like he knows what Steve’s thinking, and Steve decides against it. 

Steve tries to maintain his normal routine, doesn’t want anyone questioning him on why he’s suddenly acting differently, but he does make an effort to spend more time in public. It’s a catch twenty-two, because it gives Bucky more access to him, but it also puts Steve out around people for the first time since he revealed his status. 

Evidently, Steve’s acting peculiar enough that Natasha feels the need to come back from finding herself, because she shows up at the tower not even a week after Bucky had dragged Steve into an alley, and promptly became Steve’s shadow. Steve has a sneaking suspicion Sam called Natasha and tattled. 

He appreciates Natasha trying to protect him, but her worry chafes at him, feels too patronizing when he’s a super soldier and can take care of himself. Besides, he doesn’t need someone to protect him from Bucky. 

Steve takes to going on nightly strolls, late enough that the streets are as empty as they ever get in New York, and always during a time Natasha is otherwise occupied. Even though Bucky never shows himself, if he’s even around, Steve finds a certain peace in walking the streets he used to know like the back of his hand. Sometimes he takes a cab over to his old neighborhood, just to feel the swell of nostalgia inside him, smell the salt in the air coming from the docks a few blocks over. Sometimes he sits at one of the few mom and pop cafes still around, and sketches. He begins to feel like Steve Rogers again. 

People still recognize him, and some are even brave enough to come up to him, ask him for an autograph or a picture. Some sneer at him, hurl insults at his back. Some make lewd remarks about his mouth or his ass, accompanied by a rude gesture, and an offer to find a hotel where they can get ‘better acquainted’. It’s a novel experience for Steve, to be treated so callously by people who probably respected him before they found out he goes into heat instead of popping a knot. It’s everything he was afraid of when he was young, everything he’d worried people would think about him. It barely bothers him now. Why should the opinion of some asshole alphas matter to him? 

He keeps the routine up for months, even on days when he doesn’t want to get out of bed, even when Sam gently suggests he switch things up. He spends time with his teammates, spars with Natasha in the gym, dodges all of Tony’s attempts to talk to him about suppressants and heats, and spends every minute of every day hoping Bucky will show up. 

Four months after Bucky dragged him into an alley, Steve grips Bucky’s file in a white-knuckled hand at 1 in the morning. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes with one hand, and drags himself out of bed. He’s still seeing Bucky fall in his mind, the memory fresh due to recurrent nightmares. He still hasn’t read the file. He doesn’t know if they’ll make his nightmares worse, or if what he’s imagining is worse than the truth. Someone he doubts it. 

He drops Bucky’s folder on his coffee table, and drags on some sneakers. It’s really late or really early, but Steve needs the fresh air, needs to be around living, breathing people. He doesn’t change out of his sweats and t-shirt, just pulls on a hoodie, and heads out the door. 

It’s later than his usual walks, but it’s just as peaceful and just as freeing. There are still plenty of people crowding the sidewalks and tons of cars on the road, enough noise to drown out Bucky’s scream in his head. He blends in with the crowd, walks aimlessly amongst them, no set direction in mind. 

He’s so lost in his own thoughts, not paying attention to the voices around him, that he stops dead in his tracks outside a popular bar when a group of drunk alphas block his path. Steve tries to step around them, but they move with him, blocking him from going around. “Can I help you?” He asks, polite as he can manage. 

One of the alphas sneers, steps forward, closer to Steve. He’s obviously the leader. “You’re Captain America.” 

Steve resists rolling his eyes. “Yes, I am.” 

The alpha laughs, a harsh, mocking sound. “More like Captain Cockslut.” The other alphas laugh along. “You’re a disgrace to America.” 

Steve grits his teeth, clenches his jaw so hard he’s afraid he cracks a tooth. He doesn’t respond, tries once again to step around the group of assholes, who are obviously drunk on the good stuff, because the idiots spread out, blocking him in. “This isn’t a fight you want to pick.” 

“Who’s looking for a fight? Why don’t you do what you were made for and get on your knees for us? Be a good little omega.” The alpha crowds Steve’s space. They’re the same height, and evenly matched muscle wise. But Steve’s a fucking super soldier, he could knock some sense into the asshole without breaking a sweat. “You just need an alpha to show you your place.” 

Steve tenses when the alpha gets even closer, breathes rancid breath over his neck. He’s not going to be the one to throw the first punch. “I assure you, you are not that alpha.” Steve manages to grit out, holding himself still even as the other alphas sway closer, thinking they sense impending victory. 

The alpha tangles a hand in the collar of Steve’s hoodie, opens his mouth to say something undoubtedly stupid, but is stopped by a metal hand yanking him backwards away from Steve. 

Bucky looks better than Steve remembers. His hair is pulled back, away from his face, and looks clean, like he’s been taking care of it and himself. His clothes fit and don’t have any obvious bloodstains or tears. He’s the best looking person Steve’s ever seen. 

“You shouldn’t have put a hand on him.” Bucky says in a deep voice, hints of an accent so familiar it goes straight to Steve's cock. 

The asshole alpha blusters, tries to pull away from Bucky, but Bucky’s grip is unyielding. “What the fuck man, we were just having a little fun. Didn’t know he belonged to you.” 

Bucky smiles, a harsh one Steve remembers from the cold battlefields of Europe. “He doesn’t belong to anyone but himself.” Bucky calmly reaches in the man’s pocket, pulls out his wallet, and digs the driver’s license out of its slot. “Benjamin Harris. I now know where you live. I want you to remember that the next time you decide to accost an omega minding his or her own business.” 

Bucky grins, all teeth. “But just to help you remember.” He moves quickly, too fast for Steve to follow, and then the alpha, Benjamin, is screaming in pain. The other alphas back up quickly, tripping over themselves in an effort to get away. “When the doctor asks you what happened while they pop your shoulder back in the socket, I want you to tell them that you were learning a lesson someone failed to teach you when you were young.” He pats Benjamin on the cheek meanly, and spins him away. 

Benjamin’s friends rush to help him away. Steve notes that Benjamin has gone white with pain; he smiles as Benjamin stumbles. Steve turns back to face Bucky, desperation and hope tearing at his chest. This has to mean something. 

Bucky speaks before Steve can. “I know, I know, you had him on the ropes.” 

Steve’s laugh is wet with emotion. He wants so badly to reach out for Bucky, to pull him close, breathe him in, solidify that Bucky is here, and alive, and himself. His throat clicks when he tries to talk, he has to swallow a few times before he can force the words out. “Did you figure it out?” 

Bucky steps into Steve’s space, close but not touching, eyes soft and so familiar. “I figured that I may never figure it all out. Some things I might never remember, some things I’ll never forget. What I do know though, is that you’re mine, and I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” 

“Of course, Bucky, I’m yours, always.” Steve rushes out, his hands clenching at his side to keep from tangling in Bucky’s hair, or touching his face. “Please, can I touch, please?” 

Bucky smiles, the soft one he use to give Steve in the low light of their run down bedroom when they’d curl up together after a night of making love. He grips Steve’s bicep and pulls him into a crushing hug. 

Steve melts into it, tucks his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and breathes him in. He shudders in Bucky’s arms, emotions overflowing. Bucky is warm, and smells so good, and his hold is so familiar, Steve aches from it. He feels like he can finally breath, and gulps in air hastily. He may be hyperventilating, but he thinks that’s okay. He can’t remember the last time he felt as safe, as _whole_. “Bucky. Buck.” Steve can feel the tears gathering in his eyes, tries to blink them back, throat thick with how happy he is. “You’re coming home with me right? You’re back? For good?” 

Bucky sighs in Steve’s hair, hugs him tighter. “Stevie.” He mumbles, reverently, awe clear in his voice. “You’re never getting rid of me again.” 

Steve does sob then, tucks himself closer to Bucky, as close as he can, and cries into Bucky’s coat collar. 

Bucky rubs his back soothingly, murmurs reassurances in Steve’s ear. “You’re okay, Stevie.” 

“I missed you.” Steve feels strung out from the emotions. He’s tired, but it’s a good tired, the kind that means he’ll sleep without nightmares. “I missed you so much.” 

“I kinda figured that out when I learned you crashed a plane in the fucking ocean not even a week after I fell.” Bucky drops a kiss on the crown of Steve’s head. “Don’t think we won’t be talking about all the stupid shit you’ve been pulling. God, Stevie, you were off your suppressants on the hellicarrier. What were you thinking?” 

Steve smiles against Bucky’s neck. 

“I can feel you smiling punk. You and I have a lot to talk about.” Bucky tugs Steve to the side, tucked under his arm, gets them walking. “But it’s late, and I bet your friends are worried about you. That redhead times your walks, starts getting antsy when you’re not back within an hour.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. He’s not exactly surprised. They don’t talk as they walk, both content to just be near each other, soak up each other’s presence. Steve isn’t even shocked when Bucky heads them towards Stark Tower’s private entrance without needing to be told. 

Steve had thought up a hundred different scenarios of Bucky being introduced to the team, and in a hundred different scenarios he had never imaged what actually happens. They make it as far as through the entrance to the private garage before a swarm of Stark security surround them. Natasha and Tony, who's conveniently wearing the Iron Man suit, stand back behind the guards, both pointing weapons at Bucky’s chest. Steve spots Sam leaning against the garage wall, arms crossed over his chest, a resigned look on his face. 

“Guys!” Steve shouts, trying to block Bucky with his body, but there are guns pointed at them from every direction, and Steve doesn’t have his shield. “Tony, it’s fine, tell them to lower their weapons!” 

Bucky tenses at Steve’s side. He grips the back of Steve’s hoodie, clearly ready to throw Steve out of the way if the need arises. Steve glances at his face, sees the determination written on it clear as day. “Bucky, we’re okay, I’m okay.” 

Steve glares at Tony. “Tell them to lower their weapons. Now!” 

Tony lifts the faceplate on his suit, looks a little chagrinned when he says, “I can’t Cap, not yet.” 

“Steve.” Natasha says sharply. “You have to understand our caution.” 

Bucky laughs, says something in rapid Russian. Whatever he said, it takes Natasha by surprise. Her gun lowers a few centimeters. “Keep your guns pointed at me, fine, but if they’re not aimed away from Steve in a few seconds, I cannot guarantee my actions will remain peaceful.” Bucky pushes Steve towards the guards. 

“No.” Steve frowns, turns and wraps himself around Bucky. “Put the guns down.” 

“Stevie.” Bucky sighs, exasperated. 

“Put ‘em down, boys.” Natasha calls, lowering her own weapon. 

The security team complies immediately. Tony scoffs. “Who do you all work for again?” 

Natasha asks something in Russian while Steve cuddles closer to Bucky, just in case Natasha changes her mind. 

“They already tried using the trigger words. They didn’t work.” Bucky answers Natasha. 

“Trigger words?” Steve and Tony ask at the same time. 

“Shutdown codes mainly, trained into me.” Bucky smirks. “They were very surprised when they didn’t work. One of the guards even pissed themselves.” 

“We’re trusting him? He gets enjoyment out of literally scaring the piss out of people?” Tony gives Natasha a look that heavily suggests Natasha is making a bad decision. 

“You’re sure you broke through all the conditioning?” Natasha ignores Tony, giving Bucky a searching look. 

Bucky shrugs, careful not to dislodge Steve. “As sure as I can be.” 

Natasha tucks her gun back wherever she keeps it, Steve’s never seen a holster, and nods decisively. “Good enough for me. Stark?” 

“Fine.” Tony waves the guards away. “But I need to scan the arm at some point, just to be sure.” 

“The techs were very insistent there were no nasty surprises implanted in it.” Bucky offers. 

“And you got that information how exactly?” Tony hits something on the suit, and it starts peeling open. He steps out of it. “Don’t answer that. I’m not sure I want to know.” 

Steve steps back keeping an arm around Bucky’s waist, once the security team is out of sight. He glances at Sam who smiles back. Bucky follows his gaze. 

“Sorry about your wings.” Bucky tells Sam solemnly. “Thanks for taking care of Steve.” He adds. 

Sam shrugs, ignores Steve’s look of outrage. “Someone had to.” 

Bucky smirks, and kisses Steve’s temple. “You got that right.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. He’s still basking in the fact that Bucky’s back. “Can we go to bed now?” 

“We keeping you up, Grandpa?” Tony snarks, pushing the up button on the elevator. He throws a wink over his shoulder. “Or were you not talking about sleep?” 

Sam chokes on a laugh, Bucky tenses, and Steve flushes. “Jesus, Tony.” Steve is grateful when they get to his floor without Tony making any further innuendos. 

“This place is a hell of a lot nicer than what we had in Brooklyn.” Bucky says when Steve tugs him through the living room. “Where’s all your art though?” 

“Haven’t felt much like drawing.” Steve deflects, pulling Bucky into the bedroom. He wants a lot of things, but what he wants most of all is for Bucky to hold him. 

Bucky frowns, but lets it go. He follows Steve’s lead, stripping off his coat and jeans when Steve does the same. He hesitates when Steve pulls off his own shirt. 

“Bucky?” Steve pauses when he sees the look on Bucky’s face. “Is this too much?” 

“No, you’re fine. It’s just…” Bucky trails off, fingers curled in the hem of his shirt. 

Steve watches him take a deep breath, waits while Bucky struggles through whatever’s bothering him. “You don’t hafta…” 

“You’ll see ‘em eventually.” Bucky mutters, and then yanks his shirt over his head. 

Steve’s breath catches at the sight of the scars. He wants to reach out and touch, can’t stop himself from lifting a hand towards Bucky. “Bucky…” 

“You gonna be able to deal with this? I’m not the same person I was when I fell, you know that right?” Bucky steps back, away from Steve’s hand. “You have to know, Steve.” 

“You’re still James Buchanan Barnes. The man I fell in love with. My best friend, my mate. I’m with you til the end of the line. Don’t you dare think differently.” 

“Always were too stubborn for your own good.” Bucky shakes his head fondly. “You shouldn’t decide until you know everything. Everything I’ve done, who exactly I’ve become.” 

“Not tonight. Please.” Steve wants to say that it won’t matter, but he knows Bucky won’t believe him. “Please, for tonight, just lie with me Buck.” 

Bucky’s shoulders relax, the tension leaking out of him. “Fine. But we’re just going to _sleep_. I’m not doing anything else until all our cards are on the table.” 

Steve agrees readily, crawls on the bed, and lies back, holds out an arm for Bucky. Bucky crawls up after him, and wraps Steve up in his arms. Steve buries his face in Bucky’s chest, listens to his heart, tries not to jump at the press of cool metal along his back. “I love you.” He whispers. 

“I love you too, Stevie. Never stopped.” 

∞ 

It’s a slow process, getting back to being SteveandBucky. Bucky wants Steve to know every little detail of his time as the Winter Soldier. The day after he comes back he presses his folder into Steve’s hand and tells him to read it. He lets Tony scan his arm, and takes the ID and list of shrinks Tony hands him afterwards, free and clear of any Hydra surprises lurking in his arm. At night, when he’s curled around Steve, he tells him about the people he’s killed, all the things he’s done. 

Bucky is free with affection right from the beginning. He’ll pull Steve close and drop kisses on his head and face, sometimes kiss Steve like he used to, but never too hot and heavy, and he’ll hold him at night. But he keeps his touches innocent, above the waist at all times. It drives Steve crazy. 

Steve respects the boundaries Bucky is setting, but Bucky is his _alpha_ and it’s difficult to be around Bucky all the time without wanting to get on his knees for Bucky. His omega instincts are at an all-time high. He feels the constant need to please Bucky, a never ending desire for Bucky to claim him, knot him, tie them together forever. He brings the topic up to Bucky carefully, a few months after Bucky came back. 

“Do you not want me anymore?” 

It may not be the best time. Bucky just got back from another session with the new, improved, and renamed SHIELD, giving all the details he can remember from his time with Hydra. Steve trudges on regardless. If he doesn’t get it out now, he might never get the courage back up to ask again. 

“You haven’t touched me since you came back.” Steve drops on the couch next to Bucky, angles his body towards him. “Is it me? Is it something..” He hesitates. 

“Steve.” Bucky reaches over and tangles his fingers with Steve’s. “I spent 70 years as a murderer. I wasn’t sure if you were ready for me to touch you.” 

“That wasn’t you!” Steve tugs at Bucky’s hand, frowning. “So you still want me?” 

Bucky yanks Steve forward into his arms, holds him against his chest. “Of course I still want you, Stevie. I always want you. Do you know how hard it’s been not to roll you over and claim you? You smell so good all the time, and our bed is soaked with your scent. Lying in bed with you, it takes all my willpower not to fuck you stupid.” 

“You could have just rolled me over and claimed me, I wouldn’t have stopped you.” 

“Hmm.” Bucky lifts Steve’s chin, kisses him softly. “It’s been a long time, Stevie. Maybe we should start slow. Work our way up to that.” 

Steve is 100% on board with that plan if it means he gets to touch Bucky. He kisses Bucky back, slow and easy. It reminds him of cuddling on their shitty couch back in Brooklyn, trading lazy kisses in the heat, a baseball game playing over the radio in the background. 

Bucky rolls them over, cages Steve with his body, and deepens the kiss. He licks into Steve’s mouth, reacquaints himself with Steve’s teeth and tongue, kisses him slow and sure. 

Steve moans into the kiss, tosses an arm around Bucky’s neck, threads his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He arches under Bucky, rubs his hardening cock against Bucky’s. 

“That’s not taking it slow.” Bucky pulls back to say. 

“70 years wasn’t slow enough for you?’ 

Bucky laughs. “Fair enough.” He captures Steve’s lips in a heated kiss, worms a hand between them to rub Steve teasingly through his jeans. He breaks the kiss to whisper in Steve’s ear, “You getting wet for me baby? It’s been so long, but I still remember what it felt like to be inside you. How wet you were, how tight you gripped me. Never felt so right ‘cept when I had my knot stretching you open, filling you up.” 

Steve moans and shifts on the couch, slick spreading between his cheeks, soaking his underwear. “Bucky. Fuck.” 

“Yeah, Stevie, we’re getting there.” Bucky sucks a bruise at the corner of Steve’s jaw, rips the button off of Steve’s jeans to slide his hand inside. Bucky gets a hand around Steve’s cock, rubs a thumb over the slit, collecting the precome gathered. “Can’t believe I’ve got you under me, Stevie. Smell just like I remember, feel even better.” 

“Bucky, shit.” Steve pants, grips Bucky’s hair tighter, tugging his mouth back to his. He kisses Bucky desperately. “Bucky, fuck me.” 

Bucky lets go of Steve’s cock, making Steve whine, then stands up and yanks Steve to his feet. “Bedroom. I’m not fucking you on the couch. Not today anyway.” He strips off his shirt and kicks off his sweatpants and boxers, pushing Steve towards the bedroom. 

Steve strips as he walks, leaving a trail of clothing behind him. As soon as he’s naked, he turns and pulls Bucky back into a kiss, walking backwards into the bedroom. 

Bucky pushes him onto the bed, crawling over him and blanketing him with his body. He wraps a hand around Steve’s cock, jerks him nice and slow as he kisses him. When Steve’s whining under him, jerking his hips up into Bucky’s fist, Bucky pulls back to look at Steve, panting and beautifully flushed. “Stevie. Stevie, look at you.” 

Steve blinks at Bucky slowly, pupils huge with lust. “Bucky.” 

“So good for me. You were always mine, weren’t you? From the day I met you, I knew you were mine.” Bucky thumbs Steve’s swollen lips, lets Steve suck on the digit, before he pulls it free. 

“Yours, Bucky, always.” 

“Gonna make you mine, again.” Bucky let’s go of Steve’s cock to grip his thigh and push it to Steve’s chest. He shifts back onto his knees between Steve’s legs, admiring how Steve looks spread out for him, waiting to be claimed. “So pretty, Stevie. The prettiest omega I’ve ever seen.” 

Steve hooks his arm under his knee, hold his leg to his chest so that Bucky doesn’t have to. He flushes from the praise. “Bucky, please.” 

Bucky leans forward and kisses Steve softly, sliding two metal fingers between Steve’s wet cheeks and pressing them against his hole. “Shh, I’m gonna take care of you.” He teases Steve’s rim, dipping just the tips of his fingers in before he pulls them back out. “You wanna come before or after I knot you?” He wraps his flesh and blood hand around Steve’s dripping cock, strokes slowly. 

Steve moans, pushes back against Bucky’s fingers. 

Bucky slides one finger in Steve’s hole. “Answer me, Stevie. You wanna come now, so you’ll be all relaxed when I get my knot in you?” 

“Yes.” Steve pleads. His fingers rip the sheets, where they’re clenched in his fist. His other hand leaving finger print bruises on his thigh from how tight he’s gripping it. He clenches his eyes shut when Bucky adds a second finger and rubs them over his prostate. “Please, Buck.” 

Bucky speeds up his strokes, tightens his fist around Steve’s cock. He can’t actually feel how wet Steve is, but he can feel how open he is, how ready he is for Bucky’s knot. Bucky adds a third finger, and leans down to nip at one of Steve’s nipples. “C’mon, Stevie. My pretty omega. You gonna come for me?” 

Steve’s body tightens, sweat gathering along his hairline, beading at his temples. The pleasure builds and builds, crests, and then he’s freefalling, coming over Bucky’s fist and his stomach. His orgasm leaves him dazed and floating on sensation. He moans when Bucky removes his fingers. 

“So good, Stevie. Can’t believe how lucky I am, to have you under me like this. Mine, you’re mine.” Bucky lifts Steve’s leg from his chest, throws it over his shoulder, and lines himself up. He presses gently at Steve’s rim until Steve squirms back, and opens his eyes. “You ready, Stevie?” When Steve nods, he pushes in with one long thrust. 

The stretch is the on the good side of painful, a good addition to the sensation already swamping Steve’s body. He’s a little oversensitive, but even that makes it better when Bucky starts to thrust. His cock is hard. He’s not sure it ever went soft. “Bucky. Alpha.” 

Bucky moans at the title, thrusting faster. He’s not going to last long, the feel of Steve too much to handle after too long. His knot starts to swell, so he fists Steve’s dick and jerks him off, as he pushes in as far as he can. “Steve. My Stevie, my omega. Fuck, I love you. Love you so much. Mine. All mine.” 

Steve can’t believe he survived without feeling this full, and safe, and claimed. Bucky’s knot stretched him wider than he remembers, burning slightly, and when Bucky starts to come, Steve does too. 

Bucky shudders through his orgasm, pushing Steve’s leg off his shoulder so he can fall forward, tries to catch his breath. “Holy shit.” He kisses the side of Steve’s face. “You’re amazing, Stevie.” 

“You know, we’ve never had heat sex. I hear it’s amazing.” Steve says once he’s caught his breath, arching into the hand Bucky’s running through his hair. 

Bucky chuckles, still a little out of breath. “Well, we’ll have to fix that won’t we.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://spookyscarycherry.tumblr.com/)


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 year later and it's finally time for Steve to go into heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And because so many people asked for it, here you go, a heat sex filled epilogue. Like, literally, this is only porn. Also, you can find three bonus scenes from this verse on my tumblr, first one [here](http://captainbisexualcherry.tumblr.com/post/130840698510/because-i-am-incredibly-frustrated-trying-to-write) the second one [here ](http://captainbisexualcherry.tumblr.com/post/131128956973/spookyscarycherry-okay-well-im-still) and the third one [here](http://captainbisexualcherry.tumblr.com/post/133500205785/happy-birthday-nina) :)

**1 Year Later**

It takes a year to schedule enough time for Steve to have his first real heat. Tony and Bruce both warned that because Steve had repressed it for so long, that when he did have it, his heat would be long and unpredictable. 

And because Steve had taken a lot of time off from being Captain America when Bucky first came back, Steve figured taking an indeterminable amount of time off so soon after getting back in the swing of saving the world would be a bad idea. 

And then there was the planning: Doctors had to be contacted, plans had to be made, safety precautions had to be put in place. 

But finally, Steve’s got a week blocked off, a fully stocked fridge, all the supplies he could ask for ready and waiting in their bedroom, and is finally weaned off of the suppressants. Bucky will be home any minute, and Steve has slick dripping down his leg. He’s ready. 

His fever isn’t too bad yet. He’s clear headed, still in the early stages of heat, but from what Tony’s told him, repeatedly and in graphic detail, he won’t be for much longer. 

He doesn’t bother to put on clothes after his morning shower. His skin already feels tight and hot, and he can’t imagine putting itchy fabric on top of that. 

He drains a Gatorade while he fidget in the kitchen, trying to get as many electrolytes in him as possible before his digestive system shuts down for the foreseeable future. The doctors had estimated a week at minimum for his heat, but could stretch as long as two, if it lingered any long than that, the doctors had warned that Steve would need medical intervention. 

Steve rubs at his forehead, tossing the empty Gatorade in the trash. All of the sudden, his head feels fuzzy, like it’s stuffed full of cotton, and he’s becoming increasingly aware of the need to move, the energy buzzing just under his skin, the prickling sensation building at the base of his spine making him restless. 

He blinks, tongue thick and dry against the roof his mouth, a haze falling over him. He turns to head back to the bedroom, sweat trickling down his chest, but he gets distracted by how cold the tile is under his feet. 

He’s reaching down to touch the tile when the front door opens and Steve is overwhelmed with the smell of **alpha**. He whines, high in his throat, suddenly realizing he’s _so empty_ , too empty. Why isn’t his alpha here, filling him up, covering him with his body, making him safe and whole? 

Suddenly, the need for his alpha, to be claimed by his alpha, is the most important thing in the world to Steve. He staggers toward where he thinks his alpha is, reaching around to push two fingers into himself, preparing himself for his alpha like a good omega. It’s hard to walk and finger himself so he slumps against the wall, spreading his legs and adding a third finger. It’s not enough. 

But then Bucky is in front of him, talking to him softly, smoothing his perfect hands down Steve’s overheated body, the smell of alpha wrapping around Steve like a glove. 

Steve arches into Bucky’s hands, tries to tell him how much he wants him, how much he _needs_ him, but the words come out a garbled moan. Everywhere Bucky’s hands touch tingles pleasantly. He starts to turn around to face the wall, present himself for his alpha, but gentle hands stop him, scoop him up in strong arms. “Bucky, Alpha, need it, need you, needitneedyouneedit.” Steve chants ,squirming in Bucky’s arms, kissing sloppily at every inch of skin he can reach. 

“Stevie, shhh, baby, just gonna get you in bed, then I’m gonna take care of you. My Stevie, my omega, so perfect.” Bucky tries to soothe Steve, but he doesn’t think the words penetrate Steve’s lust fogged brain. His own hormones are starting to get the better of him, making him want to drop to the floor and fuck Steve in the hallway, lay his claim right now, but he has to be the responsible one, and that means actually making it to the bedroom. 

Bucky kicks the door shut behind him as soon as he crosses the threshold of the bedroom, some innate instinct telling him to put up defenses between anyone else and his extremely vulnerable omega. 

He drops Steve on the bed, heart breaking at Steve’s whine we he steps back to strip off his own clothes as quickly as possible, tearing them irreparably. He does a quick scan to make sure everything they could possibly need is within reach of the bed, freshly made with clean sheets and the softest blankets they own bundled at the end. Satisfied, he crawls on the bed. 

Steve tries to rise up, reaching out for Bucky, but Bucky pushes him flat and covers him with his body, grinding their sweat slick skin together. Steve doesn’t settle under him, making Bucky growl and grip Steve’s hips to pin him to the bed. 

“Stevie, calm down, I’m here, gonna give you what you need.” Bucky knows he’s not going to be clear headed for much longer, his hormones surging to match Steve’s heat, but he needs to make sure Steve is ready for him first. He’s going to be rough, his instincts won’t allow anything else, and he doesn’t want to inadvertently hurt Steve, especially when Steve won’t be able to tell him if he does. 

Bucky hold Steve down with one hand, and reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing one of the many bottles of lube stacked neatly on top, placing it next to his hip. “Okay, Stevie, here we go, turn over for me.” 

Steve moans enthusiastically, clumsily rolling over onto his belly. He pushes his ass back towards Bucky, getting his knees under him, and spreading his legs as wide as he can. He rolls his head sideways on the pillow so he can see Bucky, wiggling his ass. “Alpha.” 

“That’s right. Such a good omega, Stevie, the perfect omega, **my** omega.” Bucky murmurs, adding some lube to his fingers, before sliding them between Steve’s wet cheeks. 

Steve’s wetter than Bucky has ever seen him, slick constantly dribbling out of his hole, sliding down the backs of his thighs. The sight of how ready Steve is, hole already open and twitching, makes Bucky forget about adding the lube, makes him want to hurry up and bury himself in Steve. Bucky has to shake his head a few times to clear it. 

Steve furrows his brow when Bucky pushes two fingers inside him. It feels good, but it isn’t enough. Why isn’t his alpha giving him what he needs? “Alpha, please.” He clenches around his alpha’s fingers, trying to show him how good it’ll be. “Please, ready, need you.” 

“Alright, baby, it’s okay.” Bucky adds a third and then a fourth finger in quick succession, just in case, but Steve opens easily, more slick pouring out between Bucky’s fingers. He pulls his fingers free and wraps them around his stiff cock, smearing lube and slick all over it, before lining himself up with Steve’s hole, and thrusting in. 

Bucky lets his instincts take over once he’s buried in Steve. He drapes himself over Steve’s back, pinning Steve’s hands above his head, keeping his chest pressed against the mattress. He bites at Steve’s throat, kisses him harshly on the mouth, before he digs his teeth into the meat of Steve’s shoulder. 

Bucky’s thrusts are sharp and fast, the angle perfect for hitting Steve’s prostate, and are powerful enough to move them up the bed an inch at a time. He can’t think beyond the _hot/tight/wet_ of Steve’s hole around him, the urge to bury himself as deep as he can, come inside Steve until Steve is stuffed full to the brim with him. 

And Steve…..Steve just _takes_ it. He moves his body how Bucky wants him to move it, accepts every thrust with a moan or a whimpered _“Ah, please”_ or a desperate _“Alpha!”_. He takes everything Bucky has to give him, and pushes back for more, for faster thrusts, for anything Bucky wants to give him. 

It makes Bucky’s blood roar hot in his ears, drives him to fuck Steve even harder, hips slamming into Steve’s with such force, he knows there will be bruises later. He pins Steve’s wrists together with his metal hand, grips Steve’s hip with the other for leverage, and drills into Steve. 

Bucky feels his knot start to swell, catching on Steve’s rim every time he pulls out, as he edges closer to orgasm. He holds his orgasm back through sheer force of will, needing Steve to clamp down around him, needing to be assured of his omega’s pleasure before he receives his own. “Baby, Stevie, you close? Are you ready to come for your alpha? Gonna show me how much you love being filled up?” 

It takes a few tries for Steve to answer coherently, he’s so lost in the pleasure, drifting on all of the sensations. “Yes, please, Buck, wanna come for you.” He tugs his wrists, still pinned to the mattress in Bucky’s grip. 

“No, no, Stevie. I want you to come from my cock alone. You can do that can’t you?” Bucky rolls his hips, dragging the head of his dick over Steve’s prostate. “For me?” 

Precome drips on the sheets below Steve as his dick twitches against his abs. He will, he can. He wants to be good for Bucky, give Bucky anything he asks for. He nods desperately into his pillow. “Yes, yes, please, Buck.” 

“So good for me, Stevie. Don’t know how I got so lucky, ending up with you.” Bucky pulls back until his swelling knot tugs on Steve’s rim. he swivels his hips, teasing Steve with the stretch. “You ready, baby?” 

Without waiting for an answer Bucky pushes inside one final time, rolls his hips in short bursts that apply constant pressure to Steve’s prostate. “Come for me, Stevie. Come for your alpha.” 

Steve claws at the sheets as he does what Bucky ordered and comes. He rolls his head back and forth on the pillow, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, mouth open on a silent scream. His orgasm stretches on and on for what feels like hours, entire body tensed tight and flushed so hot surely he must be burning Bucky where their skin is pressed together. 

Distantly, he feels Bucky’s teeth dig into his neck, feels the skin break around them, smells the slightest hint of iron in the air, and his whole body suddenly goes boneless, pliant under Bucky. He knows Bucky’s knot has fully locked them together, has the distant awareness of Bucky coming deep inside him, and he feels more complete than he ever remembers feeling before.

Steve sighs, unsure if he’s still coming, or if this is what Tony had meant when he’d said it would feel _so_ good. Steve is a little angry he’s only experiencing this now. What the hell had he been thinking? 

“Stevie, baby, you with me?” 

Steve groans in affirmation, wiggling his ass just to feel how locked together they truly are. 

“Shit, Steve.” Bucky grips Steve’s hips harder, keeping him still as his cock spurts some more come inside Steve. “Let a guy rest a little.” 

Bucky gently loosens his hold on Steve’s wrists, settling his weight a little more firmly on top of Steve. He kisses the space next to the impression his teeth left in Steve’s neck, and then the side of Steve’s face. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I want you to fuck me again.”

“We need to rest while we can, babe. It’s gonna be a long week.” 

Steve pouts, but closes his eyes. He feels fine as long as he focuses on the feel of Bucky buried in him. He’s asleep within minutes. 

∞

Bucky had been under the impression that Steve would act mostly the same during the whole heat, that after the first day he would know what to expect. 

He was wrong. 

Bucky knots Steve three times the first day of Steve’s heat, and five times on the second. On the morning of the third day, Bucky wakes up to Steve crawling over him, and impaling himself on Bucky’s dick. 

Bucky rolls Steve over and fucks Steve through two orgasms before he knots him. Inside the safety of his own mind, he begins to worry. 

Once his knot has gone down enough for him to slip out of Steve, he tries to get them both some food and drinks. Steve may not need it, but Bucky sure as hell does. Except, when he tries to leave the bed, Steve cries out and tries to crawl after him. 

“Steve, c’mon Stevie, I need to get us something to drink, something to eat.” Bucky pleads, but Steve ignores him and rolls to his hands and knees, wiggling his ass at Bucky. 

When Bucky doesn’t immediately start fucking him, Steve reaches back and pushes four dry fingers into himself. 

“Shit, Steve.” Bucky’s getting hard again, if he even ever went soft, but it’s his job to take care of Steve, give Steve what he needs, and while he may _want_ to be fucked, what he _needs_ is to ingest some calories. 

He leans over by the edge of the nightstand, and rifles through the various toys, until he finds the plug they’d bought specifically for Steve’s heat. He gently pulls Steve’s fingers out of his red, leaking hole, and pushes the plug inside. 

Steve immediately relaxes enough for Bucky to slip across the room and grab two Gatorades and a bag of grapes. He crawls back on the bed and sits against the headboard, pulling Steve up into his lap. 

He arranges Steve’s legs, until Steve is straddling his thighs, and props Steve against his chest as he uncaps a Gatorade. He holds it to Steve’s mouth until Steve obediently opens his mouth and swallows what Bucky pours in. 

“That’s good. So good for me, Stevie.” Bucky pushes a grape between Steve’s slack lips. “Perfect omega.” 

Steve preens under the praise, opening his mouth for another grape, showing his alpha just how good and perfect he is. When he shifts slightly he feels Bucky’s hard cock under him and becomes distressed. “Bucky,- alpha, please- why-” He reaches for Bucky’s cock, but Bucky grabs his wrist before he can get to it. 

“Not yet, just a few more sips first, okay?” He pours some more Gatorade in Steve’s mouth, before he downs the rest of the bottle himself, popping a few grapes in his mouth. “That’s great, baby, good job.” 

Bucky reaches between Steve’s legs and tugs at the plug, pushing it back and forth inside Steve until Steve whimpers. “Okay, Stevie, you were so good for me. Gonna give you what you need now.” He pulls the plug free and tosses it on the other side of the mattress, quickly pushing inside Steve before too much come can drip out. “That’s better, huh?” 

Steve sighs and relaxes against Bucky’s chest, rolling his hips softly, rubbing his dick against Bucky’s abs. “S’good.” 

“I know, baby.” 

It’s sweeter this time, softer, more gentle. Bucky holds Steve’s hips firmly, but gently, and helps him move himself on Bucky’s dick. Bucky gets to stare into Steve’s shiny, fever-filled eyes, and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, even if Steve isn’t really aware of either. 

When he finally knots them together, Steve’s come sticky between them, Bucky feels like he can finally relax. 

Two hours later, the sex isn’t nearly as sweet, but it is just as good. 

On day four, Bucky spends the entire day buried as deep as possible in Steve’s ass. Steve is especially insatiable, moaning with loss every time Bucky’s knot goes down, and crying when Bucky so much as attempts to pull out. 

At one point Steve puts Bucky’s hand over his stomach, and begs “please, please, please, please.” 

Logically he knows that he’s not going to get Steve pregnant because Steve had taken contraceptives beforehand, but the idea of knocking Steve up really gets him going. When he fucks Steve after that he keeps a hand on Steve’s stomach, and whispers in his ear all about how he’s going to breed Steve, fill him up, keep him plugged until he's sure Steve’s pregnant. 

Steve comes so hard he actually passes out.

When Bucky wakes up on the morning of day five and breathes in through is nose, he realizes they need to shower and change the sheets. Their room could pass for a brothel there is so much come and slick everywhere, and it smells like one too. 

He gently untangles himself from Steve and grabs the plug from the side of the mattress, before he pushes the plug in Steve and goes to turn on the shower. Once the water is warm, but not too warm, he goes back to gather Steve in his arms, carrying him into the shower. 

It’s difficult to wash all the fluids off of the both of them when Steve is basically a boneless heap against the wall, even more so when he starts squirming and groping Bucky, obviously ready to be knotted again. 

Bucky does the bare minimum to get them clean before he pushes Steve up against the wall, pulls the plug out, and eats him out until Steve shoots all over the tile wall. Bucky licks Steve through it, waiting until Steve has stopped shivering and clenching around him, before he pushes the plug back in and makes sure Steve is stable against the wall, before going to change the sheets. 

He rips the sheets off the bed, bundles them up and throws them into the corner of the room. He hopes Tony has some kind of incinerator, because there is no way they’ll be salvageable. He grabs the clean change of sheets from their pile of supplies and makes the bed quickly, throwing the lube and a couple of bottles of Gatorade on the bed afterwards. Then he goes back for Steve. 

Steve just blinks at Bucky dazedly, reaching out for him clumsily when Bucky turns off the shower. He burrows into Bucky’s body, mouthing along Bucky’s collarbones and the scarring around his metal arm, as Bucky carries him back to bed. 

Steve actually manages to drink a whole bottle of Gatorade before he needs to come again. Bucky’s half-finished bottle gets knocked off the bed when Bucky rolls Steve under him. 

On day six, Steve burns. Nothing Bucky does makes him feel less like he’s on fire. Even when Bucky’s knotted deep within him, he still burns, and it _hurts_. At some point he thinks he hears Bucky talking frantically to a doctor on the phone, whispers harsh and grating on Steve’s oversensitive ears. When Bucky smoothes a hand down his shoulder, trying to settle him down, his skin aches where it’s touched. 

But it aches even worse in the places Bucky doesn’t touch, so he allows Bucky to cradle him in his arms, fill him back up with his dick, knot him, hold him, and tell him everything’s going to be okay. 

On day seven, Steve wakes up with a clear head and a pleasantly sore ass. He wiggles back on Bucky’s cock still buried inside him, and kisses Bucky’s arm where it’s stretched over his chest. “You awake, Buck?” 

“No.” Bucky grumbles, rolling his hips against Steve’s. “You’re gonna kill me, Stevie. I just knotted you two hours ago.” 

“Oh, what a hardship I’ve placed upon you.” Steve rolls his eyes, laughing when Bucky freezes behind him. 

“You’re being a little shit again!” Bucky cries, hugging Steve to him. “This means your heat is over right?” 

“Yes, you asshole, I think that means my heat is over.” 

“Oh thank god.” Bucky huffs. “I thought I was gonna do permanent damage with the amount of chafing I have going on down there.” 

Steve concentrates on tightening his muscles around Bucky’s hardening cock. “Yeah, it really seems like I’ve worn you out.” 

Bucky moans and bites at the scar he left on Steve’s neck, the scar that makes Steve as his. “What can I say? I’ll always get it up for you, Stevie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated changing Gatorade to Heatorade, because I have a fucked up sense of humor. Come and talk to me on [Tumblr](http://spookyscarycherry.tumblr.com). (p.s. I also take prompts :D)


End file.
